Harry Potter and the Illusions of Reality
by puiwaihin
Summary: Harry has felt for a long time that there was something strange about the Muggle world. But when he begins receiving strange messages from the notorious mass murderer, Sirius Black, he begins to wonder if the Wizarding world is what he believed it to be. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1: Dreams

_**Copyright and Intellectual Property Notice:** This is an original work of fan fiction. However, Harry Potter and the fictional world of Hogwarts, on which part of this story is based, are the intellectual property of JK Rowling. The Matrix and the character Neo is the creation of Lana (formerly Larry) and Andy Wachowski._

* * *

><p><strong>Harry Potter and the Reality of Illusions<br>**

**Chapter 1: Dreams**

* * *

><p><em>00000000 00000000 00000000<em>

* * *

><p>The clanging racket of Harry's alarm clock broke his dreams apart. His dreams were always disjointed, as if the moment he began to sleep and the moment he woke up was the same thing. He rolled over and smacked the top of the noisemaker to silence it. It was too early to get out of bed. But he forced himself awake. Time to make breakfast for his Muggle tormentors.<p>

Harry slipped on his glasses and headed downstairs to begin his chores. Despite Uncle Vernon's oppressive voice barking at him whenever he made the mistake of getting noticed, Harry felt rather cheerful. After all, he was going back to Hogwarts in a few days.

Harry took a quick look at the telly while turning the bacon. He caught sight of a frightening face. The man had wide eyes that revealed a terrible mania, wild hair flying about unkempt, and a wide-open mouth. He caught some of the announcement over the sizzle of the food, "… mass-murderer Sirius Black has been spotted…" Harry stared at the image. It was as if the black and white photograph was drawing him into it, his consciousness following some half forgotten memory of... A hot pop of grease caught Harry's arm and burned him. Harry yelped in pain, the connection to the photo disrupted by the acute pain in his arm.

"What's that racket, boy?" came Vernon's immediate reprimand. "You'd best not be burning any of my breakfast or you'll feel my hand on your backside!"

"Of course not, Uncle Vernon," Harry responded, and then added under his breath, "I'm just burning my arm off."

Harry went to the tap and ran cold water over the burned spot on his arm. As he served breakfast to his obnoxious relatives, the frightening image of the murderer returned to his mind. There was something very familiar about it. He shook his head as he took his seat and ate what was left of the food. There wasn't much, but it didn't matter. In a few days he was leaving the Muggle world behind for the rest of the year.

Harry continued his daily routine, avoiding any interaction he could with his relatives. Over the following days, Harry noticed several alerts concerning this "Sirius Black" murderer. There were very few details about his killings, but every report stressed how dangerous the man was and showed disturbing close-ups of his face.

He couldn't wait for the day to finally come when he could leave the Muggles for the school year. Every day with the Dursleys was tedium. It was like living in a nightmare of a fantasy world and he was about to return to a happier reality. Days before it was actually time to leave, Harry grabbed his trunk and headed down the stairs to set it by the door in anticipation of leaving. The stairs creaked and groaned beneath his feet discordantly, and for a moment it was if the sound was off. Even the acoustics of the stairs creaking was unreal to him here in this Muggle world. If he didn't know better, he would swear at times that this was the dream world and his dreams were what were real.

* * *

><p><em>00000001 00000001 00000001<em>

* * *

><p>Harry walked through King's Cross Station with a slight feeling of nervousness. There was something disconcerting about large crowds of people, so many Muggles in one place. Carefully, he made his way around all the oblivious <em>non-magical<em> people. In his heart, Harry pitied them, but at the same time, he was beginning to detest him. They were always so cruel and so thick-headed. Still, Harry tried to have some charity for them in his heart, as difficult as it was at times.

Harry Potter noticed that there was a boy looking around the station nervously. He was a bit older than him, but it was clear that it was his first time coming to Hogwarts. Harry watched the boy approach the uniformed Muggle officer by the platform and ask him a question. Harry knew exactly what the question would be. _"How do you get to Platform 9 ¾?"_

Approaching to lend a hand, Harry saw and heard the response from the uniformed officer and it sent a chill down his spine. _"9 ¾? Think you're being funny, do you?"_ It wasn't what the officer had said. It was how he said it. The words, the sound, the inflection, and now that he was close enough to see the man's face clearly, even the mannerisms as the man turned and walked away were **exactly** the same as what he remembered on his first day going to Hogwarts. It felt a bit like déjà vu.

A thought occurred to Harry. Was it his fault? Had he caused the man to respond in exactly the way he did because of an instance of accidental magic? Harry postulated that upon seeing the new boy, Harry's sense of nostalgia had set off an unconscious stream of magic that had affected the platform assistant and somehow forced him to replay the scenario in precisely the way Harry had remembered it. That was the most logical explanation he could come up with. He'd need to jot this down and report it to one of his professors.

When the boy, probably 15 years old, turned away from the uniformed Muggle, Harry approached the boy with a smile. The boy looked back at him apprehensively. He had a pale face, short-cut raven black hair, and a stony look to his expression.

"Hi there! Looking for Platform 9 ¾?" Harry asked.

The boy's expression became even more apprehensive.

"Don't worry, it's okay to talk to me. It's not against the rules. I'm going to Hogwarts, too. I'm guessing this is your first year, right?" The older boy nodded. Harry extended his hand and introduced himself, "I'm Harry Potter; I'm a third year student."

"John," the boy said, taking Harry's hand looking relieved. "John Anderson. I'm glad you spoke up. I wasn't really sure what to do. Not even sure this is all _real_."

Harry knew exactly how John felt. When he had first learned that the reason so many strange things happened was because of magic, he wasn't sure he believed it either. But then he had gone to Hogwarts and everything that seemed strange and wrong in the world suddenly made sense. It was a lot to take in, there being an entirely hidden world that normal people didn't even know existed, but once you realized that, all the other oddities began to add up.

"Come on, I'll show you how to get on the platform."

Harry towed his trunk with his owl atop it straight towards the pillar in the wall between platforms nine and ten. When he got there, he opened the door on the wall and stepped through into a hidden room. The room was completely bare, with just a dusty floor and plain, bare brick walls.

"Come on," Harry said, waving John in. "And close the door behind you."

John stepped into the room and closed the door.

Then Harry walked directly through the wall ahead of him, towing his things behind him. John watched in surprise, then cautiously moved to follow, slowly putting his hand through the wall. It passed directly through, and John felt a hand grab hold of his from the other side and tug him forward. He emerged on the other side to see a platform full of strangely dressed people all preparing to board a totally retro looking red and black train that had the words _Hogwarts Express_ emblazoned in scarlet along its side.

"Whoah," John said dully, looking around.

Harry took a few minutes to explain about the entryway to the train station. It was one of the gateways into _Magical Britain_, which existed parallel to the Muggle version. Muggles wouldn't have even seen the door into the special room. But if they happened to see someone going in and tried to follow, they would open the door to an identical looking empty room with no way of passing through to the other side. And only a magical person could pass through the barrier anyway, and then only when all the people in the room were magical and the door to the room had already been closed.

"Don't worry, though. They'll cover all the issues about restricted magical travel in your class on the _International Magical Statute of Secrecy_."

Harry boarded the train, John following behind him. He quickly found his way to the compartment with his friends. They greeted him enthusiastically and Harry introduced them all to each other.

"John, this is Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, my friends from Hogwarts. This is John Anderson, a first year from…" Harry trailed off to let John answer the question.

"From New York," John finished for him.

"Really? An American?" Ron exclaimed. "Oh, wicked!"

John explained how he came to live in London. Shortly after he started experiencing what he later was told were the effects of accidental magic, his father was relocated to London by his firm. That was when the Hogwarts professor and the letter came.

Harry listened intently for a bit, but then noticed the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ that Ron had been carrying. On the front page of the paper was a warning about the dangerous criminal, Sirius Black. The image was the exact same one from the television. The man's face was manic and upsetting, moving towards the reader as if coming to hurt them.

"Is that Sirius Black?" Harry asked in surprise. "I thought he was a Muggle criminal. What's he doing on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_?"

"Blimey, Harry, you don't know?" Ron asked in surprise. "It's been all over the wizarding news for months now!" Then Ron thought for a moment and realized that Harry stayed with Muggles who never let him read any news from the outside. "Oh right… well, anyway, Black is not just a mass murderer, he's a dark wizard! Can you believe it?"

Dark wizards were not common. The last great Dark Wizard, who called himself "Lord Voldemort," had been killed by the current headmaster of Hogwarts nearly forty years before. There was the occasional wizard on wizard crime, usually coming from some argument over love or money, but Ministry of Magic was _extremely_ effective and efficient in dealing with any and all forms of magical crime. Most of the time the authorities arrived seconds after something happened. The absolute power of the aurors, the police force of magical law enforcement, and the even more frightening "Unspeakables" were widely publicized in order to deter any would-be malefactor from considering going dark.

"Black has committed serious crimes in both the Muggle and wizarding world. The funny thing his, he seems to be able to slip in and out of the magical world without being detected," Hermione lectured. "It's the oddest thing, because that should be impossible. All ways in and out of Magical Britain are carefully monitored by the Ministry…"

Harry smiled while Hermione continued expounding on her knowledge of all things wizarding. She was a thin girl, just starting to go through the changes of puberty into womanhood. Everything to her was black and white. Order over chaos. Which was what made her nervous and worried all the time. She was always concerned about doing the right thing, always careful to give the right answer. Hermione always stayed behind after classes to ask questions because she could not stand not to understand, for something not to make complete sense to her.

Ron Weasley was just the opposite. Unlike Harry and Hermione, Ron had grown up in a wizarding family. Whenever he didn't understand something, he just decided it worked by "magic" and let it go. He didn't need to know why magic worked, just how to use it to get the things he wanted. The only things he worried about were Quidditch and being accepted by his friends.

The group chatted away while the train sped on. John was able to tell them all about his life back in America, while he asked many questions about magic and Hogwarts. Eventually, they all quieted down, and Harry drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p><em>00000010 000000010 000000010<em>

* * *

><p><em>Harry Potter suddenly felt cold. But not cold, really. More numb. As if he couldn't feel his own body. He tried to open his eyes and look out, but he couldn't. He felt like he were deathly ill and terribly, terribly weak. He remembered this feeling. He had had it before.<em>

'_Harry Potter.'_

_It was a voice. No, a thought, but not his own. It floated through his mind like a faint alien echo. He wasn't really even sure if he had heard it at all. In fact, he had no idea where he was. Everything was wrong. Very, very wrong._

'_Harry Potter.'_

_The thought came again. It was an intrusion, he could tell. Something that shouldn't be in his mind at all. He tried to speak, to ask who it was who was calling him, but he couldn't make his mouth move. He wasn't even sure he had a mouth at the moment._

'_HARRY POTTER.'_

_The thought was louder this time. Not louder, though. Clearer. More distinct. Whatever it was, it was calling to him._

'_Who is this?' he thought in reply._

'_I AM COMING FOR YOU.'_

_This confirmed it. Someone was sending him a message. Someone other than himself. Someone external to himself._

'_Who is this?' Harry asked within his mind again._

'_SIRIUS.'_

_For a moment the name meant nothing to him. Not in the state he was in. But then he made a connection. 'Sirius Black?' he thought back in alarm._

_And then the image of the screaming face exploded into his mind. The black-ringed eyes of madness, the mouth open in maniacal laughter. It was approaching, coming closer coming…_

**"HARRY!"**

The noise jarred him awake. Harry's head swiveled back and forth. His eyes opened to see his best friends, Hermione and Ron standing with the new first year boy, John Anderson. He was back on the Hogwarts Express.

"Come on, Harry! We're going to be late!"


	2. Chapter 2: Warnings

**Chapter 2: Warnings**

* * *

><p><em>00000011 00000011 00000011<em>

* * *

><p>The Hogwarts Great Hall was a huge room where all the magical students could gather together with their teachers. Candles floated in midair throughout the room, illuminating a ceiling that appeared to open up to a sky filled with high cumulous clouds which crawled lazily across the hall. The professors sat up at the Head Table, a long row of banquet tables draped in fine white linen and decorated with silver and gold embroidery, raised up on a dais at the front of the hall. The students were divided into four groups, each group sitting at a separate banquet table perpendicular to the Head Table. Each table was decorated in a unique color scheme which identified the school "House" to which they belonged.<p>

There were four group "houses" that a student could be assigned to, one for each table. They were Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. At the beginning of each year, the students were "sorted" into their houses by means of a magic hat. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all members of Gryffindor house, and had all entered at the age of eleven and all the same year. That was rather unusual.

John Anderson stood at the front with a group of fourteen other new students. There was one other about his age with him, a tall, blond haired girl who appeared very nervous. The others in the group were younger, mostly ten and eleven years old, but a few were younger than that. One shy boy in particular was only eight years old, looking small and particularly fearful. Of the fifteen new students seven were female, eight male. Five were dark skinned, two appeared oriental, and the rest Caucasian.

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, stood up before the assembled group to stand at a podium shaped in the form of an ornately carved golden phoenix. Dumbledore was an aged man with long, flowing silvery-white hair topped by a powder blue pointed hat that matched the robes he wore. A pair of half moon spectacles sat on the bridge of his nose, giving him a scholarly look that nicely complemented his kindly grandfatherly face. Despite this, he was known in the magic world to be the most fearsome wizard in the world.

"Before the Sorting and start of term feast can begin, there are a few items of business I wish to address to all those present. First, I wish to welcome Professor Trelawney, who will be joining our staff at the post of Divinations teacher." The headmaster indicated in the direction of a woman sitting far on his left hand side, who stood and bowed to the student body with a kindly smile. "Second, bear in mind that the importation of any sort of Muggle recording device into the school is _strictly_ prohibited. Any student caught with unauthorized technology will be punished _severely_." Dumbledore tilted his head so that he could stare down above his glasses as emphasized this point. The entire room went eerily silent, not a sound was made, before he continued.

"Finally, let me add a few words about the reports of the mass murderer Sirius Black in this area." The room remained deathly quiet. "Black is a notorious murderer, and a pathological liar. Unfortunately, it is true that he is targeting wizards and witches. It is _imperative_ that if any of you are contacted by Black by any means that you immediately alert a member of the staff. Under no circumstances are you to communicate with this madman. Anyone found doing so will be punished as a co-conspirator without appeal. Is that understood?"

There was a murmured acknowledgment throughout the hall.

"Now, while this school is safe from this madman's predations, and you will be safe as long as you remain within these walls, the time may come when you step out from this secure bastion of safety and are confronted by Black or his accomplices. If, Merlin forbid, such a thing were to happen, know that Ministry of Magic aurors will be dispatched to deal with the incident. But…" Dumbledore paused, "if you are confronted by Black before they were to arrive, you are not without defense. While magic use in the Muggle world is strictly prohibited at all times, even in life and death situations, the Ministry of Magic has authorized any and all citizens to destroy this murderer by _any_ means necessary. That includes the use of magic in non-magical areas and the use of Forbidden Magic."

A collective gasp was heard from all the students seated at the tables. There were two things that were taught at Hogwarts above all others: First, never, ever—even if you are plummeting to your death and there is nobody anywhere around—never use magic outside of established magical areas. Second of all, never use forbidden curses. If you killed a hundred people with approved offensive spells and hexes, such as a heart attack jinx or a meteor swarm, you would likely be chased by aurors and imprisoned after a trial. But if you ever used a forbidden curse, even just to practice it, you would be found by Unspeakables and killed on sight.

The Headmaster's voice suddenly changed its tone, the grim warning vanishing and replaced by a kindly cheerfulness that seemed to utterly change his personality from grim and forbidding to warm and trustworthy. "With that out of the way, let the Sorting Begin!"

"Mr. Anderson, please take a seat in the chair in front of you," came the command of Professor Minerva McGonagall.

The Deputy Headmistress was among the foremost graduates of the school. She was a master of every spell in the school's curriculum, and was the only witch at the school known to be able to use the animagus transformation, a special branch of Forbidden Magic for which she and a few others had been given special approval to use. All the students in the school secretly wished they could learn this secret technique. It was a technique that didn't require the use of a magic wand.

John Anderson sat in the high backed, silver chair in front of him. As soon as he touched the seat, he immediately felt cold, icy cold. Then an old-looking, dusty hat was placed on his head. He had been warned that the process would be somewhat painful for a brief second, but still he was not prepared for it. When the hat was placed on the crown of his head felt a sudden backlash of… he had no way to describe the experience. It could be described as suddenly hearing a high pitched noise, suddenly increasing sharply in tone and volume, seeming to come from all directions, including from inside his own head. But it wasn't really sound. It was more like thoughts, but not a complete or single thought, but like an entire stream of them suddenly pouring into him. It was uncomfortable to the point of being painful and disorienting so much that he felt he were doing to be dizzy.

To John, the moment stretched out as if it were a long minute, but as soon as it began, it ceased and suddenly he was calm again. But there was an odd sense that there was something else in there, in his mind, with him. John opened his eyes, having shut them when the hat had been placed on his head. Suddenly, he found himself sitting alone in the great hall, everyone else had vanished. A small stick just appeared in his hand. Instantly, he knew what the object was, though he did not know how he knew what he knew. It was his wand. It was the means by which he could perform magic.

'_Give it a wave,'_ came a voice in his mind. It was like he was hearing it and thinking it at the same time. The voice was not friendly, though neither was it hostile. It was simply, insistent. Commanding. Expecting obedience.

John was not a person who responded well to being _commanded_ to do anything. He had no problem following orders, as long as he and the person giving the orders understood each other. If he acknowledged their leadership, he had no problems being led or even doing something without knowing why. But when someone tried to impose their will on him rather than asking for it, John was not someone who would simply follow. Ever.

Several moments passed. Then the voice in his head came again.

'_If you do not wave the wand you cannot be Sorted. Give it a wave.'_

John nodded. That was a reasonable request, despite not liking the tone in which it was made. He waved the wand.

Nothing happened.

* * *

><p><em>00000100 00000100 00000100<em>

* * *

><p>"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the Sorting Hat.<p>

The hat was removed from John's head and he blinked a few times. Cheers went up from the right of where Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat. As he walked over to his table, the hems of his robe changed from pure black to a canary yellow, and the symbol of a badger appeared over the left breast of his robe. The trio watched as John got up and took his place among the Hufflepuffs. John saw them clapping, but also noticed the disappointed expressions on their faces.

The sorting continued as one by one the new students took their seats on the silver chair, had the hat placed on their heads, received their wands, and were told which House they would be in. Most of the new students were placed in Hufflepuff, although Ravenclaw got a new member and both Slytherin and Gryffindor both got one more each. Harry's year had been the first in memory where Gryffindor got that many new students during the initial Sorting ceremony.

Once the sorting concluded and all the students sat with their respective Houses, the food began appearing on the tables. There were all sorts of delectable foods. Large plates of succulent meats dripping in their own juices, exotic fresh fruit, desserts from around the world, and dozens of dishes clearly labeled as to what they were and where they were from. Of course, this being a magical feast, some of the dishes were of unnatural colors, such as the green eggs and ham and purple bell peppers.

Harry grabbed a bowl of soup and noodles and was about to dip his spoon into it when he noticed it swirling around in an odd pattern. For a moment, he felt a slight disorientation, and then he saw an odd bit of magic at work. Several noodles were floating upwards within the soup broth and were slowly forming letters. Curious, Harry watched as first a 'T' was formed, followed by a letter 'H' then an 'E', and finally followed by a letter 'Y'.

"How's the soup there, Harry?" Ron's voice interrupted him. He looked across to where his best friend was greedily stuffing his face with huge chunks of roast and potatoes smothered in dark brown gravy. "Them noodles any good?"

Harry shook his head. "Don't know, Ron, haven't touched them yet. But they do seem unexpectedly literate." Harry watched as his friend expression turned confused. Harry smiled, knowing Ron had never been one of the brightest wizards. He wasn't sure if Ron even knew what 'literate' meant.

Harry turned back to his bowl of soup and noodles to see more letters form. First came 'H' then an 'A' followed by a 'V' and then another 'E'. There was a short pause and then the letter 'U' appeared. After that, the swirling of the water subsided and the noodles stopped moving. Harry frowned to himself. What an odd bit of magic. What did it mean? He was tempted to report this to one of the professors, but decided it wasn't important. Probably just one of the older students playing a prank.

* * *

><p><em>00000101 00000101 00000101<em>

* * *

><p>Harry watched as Hermione performed the shattering charm to perfection. She waved her wand in a perfect figure eight, keeping her eyes on her wand tip and incanting the words to the spell, "<em>Rumparo!<em>" The brass goblet that was her target shattered into hundreds of pieces, splitting with a sound of breaking glass. The witch smiled at her success and reversed the motions of her wand and uttered the counter-curse, "_Renovo!_" The goblet reformed, each piece flying back together in the exact opposite way of its previous destruction.

"Excellent work, Hermione!" came the excited praise of the Charms professor, Filius Flitwick. "Ten points to Gryffindor for such precise control!"

Harry attempted to follow suit. He made the figure eight motion with his wand, concentrating on wanting the goblet to be destroyed, filling the magic within him well up, and said the spell, "_Rumparo!_" There was a slight distortion in the air, the entire room began to spin, and then… the goblet shattered into thousands of pieces which flew violently across the room.

Harry covered his eyes with his hand and cringed. He looked over to see Professor Flitwick walk over to him and make a slight _tsk_ing sound.

"Not bad, Harry," the extremely short man said. "You got the motions and the inflection right, all very important, which is why your spell worked." He nodded over to indicate several of the others, including Ron, who were all having no luck at all getting anything to happen whatsoever. "But your concentration was off. You only managed to focus 86.4% of the magic you drew upon into your wand."

"I was trying, professor, really," Harry apologized.

"Oh, it's alright, my boy," Filius said with a pleasant smile. "That's what we are all doing here at Hogwarts. If we all had perfect control when we were born we wouldn't need to bring you here for instruction."

The lesson ended a short time later. Ron had finally gotten his spell to work, causing his mug to shatter fairly well, although he hadn't managed to get it put back together. He had difficulty both with keeping the arc of the figure eight precise and with proper enunciation of the spells.

The trio walked through the hallways towards their _Accidental Magic Reporting and Repair_ class. It was one of their more boring classes, but as so frequently stressed by Professor Vector, one of the most practical for any witch or wizard who wanted to work or live in the Muggle world. Graduates who had mastered the skill of recognizing subtle magical affects out in the Muggle world were among the most valuable, and Accidental Magical Reverser was among the most lucrative careers a witch or wizard could have.

As luck would have it, the three crossed paths with John, who was on his way to Flitwick's _Elementary Charms_ class back. Harry grinned and waved at the older boy. John smiled back and met the group.

"Hey, John!" Harry greeted, echoed by Ron and Hermione. "How's your first week of classes?"

John Anderson's smile faltered. "Fantastic," he said sarcastically. "I can't get a single spell to work no matter how hard I try. It's like I'm not even a wizard. Although most of the other Huffpuffs have the same problem. Only a few have managed to do anything. Is that normal?"

Hermione looked worried. But Ron brushed the concern aside with a laugh. "Oh yeah, John. We all have problems doing magic. Me, I grew up in a wizarding family. Mum and dad were both wizards, and I still couldn't do anything right when I first got here, too. Don't worry about it, mate! You'll get the hang of it."

Harry nodded and grinned encouragingly, though he was hiding the doubt he shared with Hermione.

"Good to hear that," John nodded. "But, how do you deal with the changing stairs and rooms? This place is always changing. And I swear, one time I walked through a doorway only to find myself standing in the middle of Hong Kong! Luckily, the door was still open and I walked back through…"

The three laughed. "Yeah, that is a problem. But you'll get used to it. With all the magic around this place, there are bound to be things like that happening," Harry said.

Hermione beamed a smile at John. He was a really handsome older boy, nearly a man. "The secret to the stairs is to tell them what you want them to do," she explained.

"Tell them? How?"

"You can't just say it, you have to order it. Like you really, really mean it," Harry supplied.

"Thanks," John replied sincerely. "You have any tips on how I can do any spells?"

"Oh sure," Ron chipped in cheerily. "You see, the real key is to focus your spell on your wand, not the object or effect you are trying to create."

"You're one to be saying that," Hermione chided her friend, watching as his face suddenly flushed a red that matched the color of his hair. "You've got the worst magic control in the class. Most of the time you can't even manage to channel even half of your magic into your wand!"

"But he's right," Harry said, coming to Ron's defense by agreeing with him. "It's really important to focus on the wand, not the world. Your professors will tell you a million times, but it's a lot harder than it sounds. I still always have trouble with—"

"Harry Potter," interrupted a sneering voice from behind John. "Still hanging around with this squib are you?" A boy with pale blond hair came up behind them, flanked by two towering older boys with very dull, vacant looking eyes. "Not surprising, considering who else you hang around with," the arrogant smile on his lips turning into a curl of distaste as he looked at Harry's two friends.

"John is not a squib, Malfoy," Harry shot back, his brow furrowed in annoyance. Draco Malfoy was the biggest prick in the entire school. He considered himself one of the elite because not only were his parents and grandparents wizards and witches, but all the Malfoys in the known history of his family were as well. Draco considered himself superior to others who did not share that pedigree, which was just about everyone. Which Harry knew was a crock because over ninety percent of all the students at the school had neither a witch nor wizard in their family and could perform magic just fine.

"Oh? Then why is he in Hufflepuff, orphan-boy?" Draco sneered. "Everyone knows the Creampuffs are the squib House."

"Shut it, Malfoy!" Ron snapped angrily.

The blond boy in the robe with green trim sneered at Ron, his nostrils turning upwards slightly as he did so. The Weasley family was the newest so-called pureblood family, Molly and Arthur Weasley having sired seven children with magical talent. However, the Weasley parents themselves had been born to non-magical parents. Draco resented the fact that many at the school, especially the professors, regarded the red headed family the same as they did his own.

John interrupted, asking Draco what he had meant by his earlier statement. "What do you mean about Hufflepuff House being for squibs?"

"How dare you speak to me!" Draco shouted in false affront at being addressed. "You filthy squib!" Draco drew his wand and pointed it at John. "I'll teach you to talk to your betters! _Corpus Leviosa!_"

John suddenly felt himself flying up into the air.

"Stop it, Malfoy! He's just a first year!" Harry argued.

"Then he shouldn't be speaking to me, should he," Draco smirked, then his smirk turned into a scowl when he saw John looking around himself in wonder rather than fear. "I'll make sure you never forget this lesson, squib. _Frendo!_"

Harry and Hermione worked together in concert. The witch raised her wand and pointed it at the older boy still suspended in the air and used a general purpose effect ending abjuration. "_Finite Incantatem!_" John dropped hard to the floor just as the orange blob of Draco's curse struck the ceiling just beyond where he had been. The blond wizard's crushing curse put a fairly spherical dent into the ceiling of the castle. Had it hit John, the older boy would have had his bones crushed.

"_Stupefy!_," Harry yelled out, flicking his wand side-armed towards the Slytherin student.

Draco managed to put up a shield with the _Protego_ charm before the red beam from Harry's wand hit him, but the force of the spell made the taller, blond-haired boy stagger back in surprise. The wildly-cast defense spell also had the effect of making the entire hallway suddenly expand and contract. When the hallway had returned to its original proportions, it was discovered that it had been completely redecorated, paintings completely replaced, doorways in different spots, and the colors scheme changed an odd mixture of light brown and deep purple.

"Harry!" Hermione chastised. "Be careful with your magic! Focus on your wand, not your target!"

"Right," he responded, a bit taken aback by the effects of the misdirected magic.

Draco was surprised that Harry Potter had been able to blast him backwards. The blond was just a year older than Harry, but he had entered Hogwarts at the age of nine, his magical talents having been detected much earlier, making him three years above Harry. Draco intended to become an auror, hunting down those who defied the Ministry, which was why he put most of his out-of-class practice into perfecting his offensive and defensive spells. Yet here he was, knocked backwards by a third year student.

"Let's see you stop this one, Potter!" Draco snarled. "_Exptecto_ _tellum!_"

A black spear with a glowing red point shot into existence, flying straight towards John. Hermione and Ron tried to shield John with _Protego_ charms, but the spear smashed through their shields—though it was no surprise that Ron's had failed considering his general lack of skill compared to the brilliant witch or the powerful Harry. The spear flew through both barriers unhindered.

Harry, however, had not attempted to shield John from the spell using magic. Instead, he stepped in front of it, shielding John's body with his own. He didn't know what made him do it. It was just an instinct. Protect the weak. Even though John was older and physically more mature than either he or Draco, Harry still knew that he was the stronger of the two in terms of magic. So, he did what a hero would.

John's eyes widened, realizing what Harry was doing.

"NO!" he and Harry called at the same time, raising their hands up in the air.

The spear halted in mid-flight.

"Impossible!" Draco gasped out.

"You… you performed wandless magic!" Hermione stammered, looking at the pair in shock, unsure who was responsible.

"For once, you are mistaken, Miss Granger," a familiar, kindly voice said. Albus Dumbledore stepped into the hallway from a doorway that hadn't been there a moment ago and which ceased to exist after he had walked through it. He walked over to where the stunned group stood, the magical spear still frozen in place. With a gesture of his hand, the spear fell to the floor and then simply vanished away. "I am the one who used wandless magic. And it is not something any of you should _ever_ attempt."

There was no twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes as there usually would be. His piercing blue eyes were now cold and hard, and they showed that the old wizard meant exactly what he had said. There was no way any of the four students he was looking at would misinterpret his statement as a challenge to try. The warning was clear. He then turned those very same eyes on Draco Malfoy.

The boy gulped.

With a gesture of his finger, Draco was launched into the air just as John had been, but Draco's entire body went rigid and he spun in the air, completely under the direct control of the Headmaster.

"Draco Malfoy," Dumbledore began conversationally, with the same tone he might have offered the boy a lemon drop, "I cannot tell you how deeply I am disappointed with your actions." Despite the casual almost, friendly sound of the old wizard's voice, his eyes remained dark and utterly humorless. The contrast between the eyes and voice alone would be enough to destroy most people's nerves. It had Draco quaking inwardly, unable to even involuntarily cause his body to shudder. "Your blood is precious, Draco. The latest in a line full of wizards. It would really be a pity if you had to be destroyed. But let me make this perfectly clear to you." Dumbledore drew Draco in the air towards him and pushed his finger into the boy's throat and continued, staring directly into Malfoy's wide open eyes. "If you were to harm either Mr. Anderson or Mr. Potter, I _would_ take your life in return. Do not test me."

Finished making his point, Dumbledore removed his finger from inside of Draco's throat, leaving no trace it had ever entered his body. Then with a gesture, the boy collapsed to the floor gasping and choking. Dumbledore calmly, silently walked down the hall the other way, his hands folded behind his back. After a few paces, he turned to regard the five students, his customary smile and twinkling eyes back in place.

"You will not speak of this," Dumbledore commanded. Then vanished.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Hope you enjoy the story. Please post a review or send me a message. I respond and answer questions._

* * *

><p>.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3: Contact

**Chapter 3: Contact**

* * *

><p><em>00000110 00000110 00000110<em>

* * *

><p>Harry Potter flew through the air on his broom with the wind blowing through his messy brown hair. He was a natural at flying, everyone said so. Of course, he could only fly as fast as his broom could go. It could only accelerate at a certain fixed rate and once it reached the maximum speed, pushing it further didn't do anything. To his disappointment, he had managed to reach the top speed and acceleration of the fastest permitted school racing broom during his first year and since then he knew it would never get faster. However, Harry was able to turn on a dime, decelerate nearly instantly, and perform aerial feats no other rider at Hogwarts could do. Some said he was the best in the world, though Harry was sure that was an exaggeration.<p>

The Quidditch captain was Oliver Wood. The boy stressed strategy and knowing both your own and your equipment's limitations. It was vital that you never tried to do the impossible. That was how there were accidents. That was how you would fall off your broom and lose the match. He drilled that lesson into all the players.

Truth be told, Harry didn't really understand the point of Quidditch. Witches and wizards flew around on brooms throwing a wooden ball through large upright hoops, bashing another flying ball into one another with a stick, and waiting for the team "Seeker" to end the game by catching a small golden winged object and making all their effort redundant. But, Quidditch was an excuse to get out on a broom and fly, and Harry loved that feeling. He felt free. That was, until he reached the limits of what a broom could do.

Two of Ron's brothers, a pair of red-headed twins named Fred and George, were on the team as well. They were fun to be around, always joking. It seems they were always trying out new jokes and watching everyone's reactions to them. They were also the people you would go to if you had something devious in mind. They were great at listening and giving tips on how to do things just outside of what was allowed.

Harry had to duck as Fred sent a bludger, the flying ball players tried to smash into each other, towards him. The Weasley twin missed by a fair margin, and Harry gave the boy a big grin before flying off to search for the snitch. Truth be told, he never had any difficulty finding the thing. He just put off catching it until he had his fill of the game. Harry still came to every practice and enjoyed the flying part, the catching the snitch part was just a signal that he was ready to stop.

However, there was a lot of bumping and bruising that took place in Quidditch. The bludgers were the worst of it. Fortunately, they were charmed never to hit someone in the head, but getting one to the gut or even just being clipped on the leg could be incredibly painful. The body checking was not quite as bad, but still rather rough. That was a part of the game the young wizard could definitely have done without.

An hour later, Harry was back on the ground and headed towards the locker room, broom in hand. Rather than being let down that flying time was up, he was excited because it was finally time to get out of the school grounds for a bit. Not back to the Muggle world, of course, he never enjoyed that, but a field trip out to Hogsmeade. That was the closest magical village to the school and Harry got to see other magical folk on his trips there.

* * *

><p><em>00000111 00000111 00000111<em>

* * *

><p>Harry stepped through the doorway that took students to the town of Hogsmeade. It was a breeze to get there. Of course, getting back into the school was more time consuming. The only way into the school was through the main gates. Leaving the school was much easier, you just had to walk out one of the many changing doors and you could go just about anywhere. Of course, you could only do that with permission, but it was still neat. And now here he was, about to enjoy half a day around other magical people, like himself.<p>

Ron and Hermione soon joined him. They strode through the single street town with their eyes wide, taking in the sights. There were cartoon paintings dancing together atop one small shop that sold children's toys. A bakery had a massive muffin stuck atop a pole from which large invisible bites were taken and crumbs fell down. The street was full of young students running around chasing each other, shouting as they raced off from one amazing sight to the next.

Hermione, not one to really enjoy childish games of tag or silly toys, made her way over to the book shop. She was dragging Ron behind her. The red headed boy had a look of feigned horror on his face.

"Help me, Harry! She's taking me to a bookstore. It's Hermione… in a bookstore. You've got to save me, mate!"

Harry Potter had to stand their chuckling at his best friend allowing himself to be bullied by the much lighter and physically weaker girl. They both knew Ron wouldn't rather be anywhere else in the world than being manhandled by Hermione Granger. His first year he tried to pretend he thought she was weird or "icky", but he got over that quickly and now she was always around him and he wouldn't have it any other way. Even if she was a bit mental.

Speaking of mental, Harry thought for a moment that he was going nuts. There was a girl with bubblegum pink hair walking down the street, and as he watched her hair changed to a bright raspberry purple, then turned white, and then bright yellow. Harry rubbed his eyes. When he brought his hands away from in front of his face, he saw that the girl was standing in the doorway of Honeydukes, the local pub/diner. She was looking directly at him. Their eyes locked and she gave him a smile and gestured with her head towards the door. Then she walked inside.

"Um, I'll catch up to you two later. There's something I want to go check out."

Like Ron, Harry was at the age where he was starting to fancy girls, yet was still too shy to do anything about it and self-conscious about his emerging feelings. He was most definitely not about to let on to his best mate that he was following a girl into a pub. Especially a girl that had to be at least a seventh year.

Harry walked into Honeydukes and looked around. There were several older witches and wizards sitting around drinking and eating. They wore long cloaks of rather dull colors compared to what one would see in other parts of the wizarding world. Most had pointed hats, and quite a few were smoking pipes. It was a much darker place than Harry remembered from last time he was in to get some of the butterbeer they sold. He couldn't see sign of the girl at all and was about to walk back out to the street, not liking the feel of the place. But then Harry heard the sound of laughter coming from the back where a couple of wizards sat chatting away about their day.

Harry recognized the sound of Ron's father, Arthur Weasley, and the father of another one of his schoolmates. He couldn't quite remember which one, but he knew the voice was from the father of someone in his House. Feeling a little more comfortable, Harry sat down at the bar and ordered a butterbeer for himself. The drink came and then all of a sudden the girl he had seen earlier sat down next to him.

Up close, Harry could tell she was very pretty, even prettier than he had thought from afar. She looked to be about seventeen, maybe eighteen. She had smooth skin, and Harry couldn't help but notice she had a shapely figure. Of course, it was her hair that drew his attention. Now, it was solid black.

"Um… uh…" he tried to stammer out a greeting.

"Wotcher, Harry," she said with an affected accent.

Harry looked extremely confused. "Do you know me?"

"You're Harry Potter, aintcha?" she said with a smile.

Harry was floored. He had never met this girl before in his life. He was sure he would have remembered. So how did she know him? It wasn't like he was famous or anything. The only people who really knew him were his schoolmates. Sure, he was popular at school because he was Seeker on the Quidditch team, but nobody but family members of the players ever followed the school teams.

"How… how…?"

"Oh, I know all about you, Harry. In fact, I'm probably your biggest fan. Well, maybe second biggest, after my boss." She extended her hand. "I'm Tonks."

Harry took it. Her fingers were soft. Somehow, when he touched her it was like he made a connection with her. He knew immediately that she was strong, much stronger than she looked. There was a depth to her unlike anyone he had ever met.

Tonks looked around Honeydukes and pursed her lips into a slight frown. "Too many eyes and ears here, Harry. Fancy taking a walk with me?"

The teenager nodded his head and followed her back out the door of Honeydukes, leaving his barely touched drink behind and a couple sickles to pay for it. He walked behind her as she carefully ducked around the back of the building. There were much fewer people in the alley behind the shops here, and now there really weren't any people watching them.

Tonks gave him a big smile. "Thanks for trusting me, Harry," she said. But then her eyes narrowed, taking on a little bit of a dangerous glint. "But you're too trusting, I'm afraid."

Harry backed up a step.

"I don't mean me, silly," Tonks said, and Harry noticed her hair shift to a bright red. Harry relaxed a bit. "I mean, everything. Everything you see. You are too trusting of it. Nothing is what it seems."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, completely puzzled by this statement.

"I can't really say, Harry," she replied. "It's dangerous. But even if I could say, it wouldn't really help. The only way to really know is to see it for yourself. I could explain it, but you wouldn't be able to believe it. And unless you believe it…"

"What do you mean by 'it's dangerous'? What is this all about?"

Tonks sighed, then handed a package to Harry.

"I wish I could tell you. But if I tell you, it would put you and other people in danger. So, I hope you'll trust me." Tonks looked Harry in the eye. "This package is for John Anderson. I know you're a friend of his."

"Do you know John?" Harry asked, wondering if that's how the strange girl also knew of him. But he thought it unlikely because she didn't seem American and John had said he hadn't made any friends in England before coming to Hogwarts.

"About the same as I know you, Harry. Which is not as much as I would like," she said. Tonks ruffled the hair on top of his head. "Now, can you promise me that you'll give this to John? Do it when the two of you are alone together, where there isn't even a painting looking at you. Can you do that?"

"Um, what's in this?"

"A book, a piece of paper, and some clothes," she said. "And the secret to the meaning of everything," she added cryptically.

"Why don't you give it to him, then?"

"I'm afraid I can't," Tonks replied. "I can't get into Hogwarts."

"But then, why don't you give it to him here?"

"He ain't here, is he?" she said teasingly, and Harry felt himself blush. John was a first year student. They didn't get to go on a trip to Hogsmeade.

Harry thought about it for a moment. "Alright, I'll do it," he answered. "But first, tell me who this boss of yours is."

"Sorry, kiddo, can't do that. I'd really like to, but if I did I'd have to run. And better if I didn't have to right just yet."

"Is it someone I know?"

"Ooh, that's good, Harry. You could say the words without causing a disturbance since it wouldn't mean what it means." Tonks said, clapping her hands together, apparently happy with him. "Yes, and I can give you some clues, but you can't say his name out loud."

"Alright, then."

"What's the opposite of joking?"

"Not joking?" Harry asked, shrugging his shoulders.

Tonks smacked her head with the palm of her hand. "One word, Harry. I know you're smarter than that!"

"Serious?"

"Right. Now, what's the opposite of white?"

"Black," Harry said immediately. A couple seconds later, he put the two words together and his eyes went wide. "Siri—"

Tonks' hand clamped over his mouth and she hissed out a "shush." Now, he could really feel how strong she was. She had slammed him against the back of a building faster than he had thought possible, and now the two were hidden from sight in a shadow Harry hadn't even noticed before. His eyes were still wide, looking in fear at the face of the dangerous girl who had been so very enticing and attractive just a few minutes ago.

"You promised you wouldn't say the name aloud, Harry, remember?" Tonks waited for Harry to nod his head. "It's dangerous for both me… and you. Remember that." She let her hold on him slacken a little and waited for him to calm down. "I don't want to hurt you. Really I don't. I hope I never have to. Let me just say this: my boss is not what the papers say he is. Everything you have heard about him is a lie."

Tonks stared Harry directly in the eyes. "Now, I'm going to take my hand off your mouth. Are you going to yell or call for the… aurors?"

Harry shook his head 'no'. Of course, that was the only smart answer to give, but Tonks took her hand away from his mouth anyway. He didn't call out.

"Good," she said. "Harry, you are in danger. You don't even realize it. You cannot trust anyone at that school. Not even John or your two friends."

"They'd never hurt me," Harry protested.

"Your friends wouldn't want to hurt you, no, I'm sure," the girl said in a subdued voice, her hair turning a shade of light green. "But they might do it without even knowing." Tonks paused for a second. "Now, knowing what you know, will you still give the package to John? We're trying to help him."

"I'm supposed to tell my professors if—"

Tonks cut Harry off. "If you do that it will make it very, very hard for us to help either of you. The professors are your enemies."

Harry looked at Tonks incredulously. "But McGonagall is so nice."

Tonks frowned. "Okay, maybe a few are alright. McGonagall is one of them. But unfortunately, she'd tell Dumbledore anything you said to her."

Harry frowned. "The headmaster is scary," he admitted. "But he had to get powerful in order to beat Voldemort."

Tonk's hair turned flame red, then slowly mellowed down to an orange. She dropped her head and sighed deeply.

"Damn it."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Now I've got to run," she said in exasperation.

"What? Why? Because I said…" at a look from Tonks, Harry shut his mouth without completing the sentence.

"I only have a few seconds left, Harry. Please, promise me you'll give the package to John. It's a matter of life and death. We're just trying to save you from…" Tonks hesitated, as if deciding what to say, then shook her head. "We're just trying to help, Harry."

Harry didn't know why, but he nodded his head to promise he would do as she asked.

"You're going to have to tell them everything that happened, Harry," Tonks said as she started moving away from him, her eyes now darting around the area. "Forget about what I said about not telling them. Just leave out the part about the package to John, or anything about John, and this last warning. Tell them everything else. That might help save you." After another second she called out, "Oh, and say hi to Filch for me!"

Suddenly, there were several loud popping sounds and a number of black-robed figures appeared all around the town. Tonks suddenly had a cheeky grin on her face that made Harry remember what attracted him to her in the first place. The aurors noticed the girl, whose hair was now a dark pink, and turned to point their wands at her.

"_Avadra Kedavra!_" shouted one of the aurors, shooting a blinding stream of green at the older girl. Tonks laughed, and sprang away from the attack. Harry's eyes opened wide as she seemingly flew up on top of the building! The auror who had fired the killing curse looked at her in shock.

But then another black-cloaked auror mimicked her trick, leaping up to follow her, firing a red burst of light towards the retreating fugitive. Harry watched as long as he could as Tonks leapt from rooftop to rooftop at a speed that wasn't humanly possible. Even a witch or wizard under the effects of a _hastius_ spell couldn't duplicate that speed. But Tonks and two of the aurors managed the trick without difficulty.

Slowly, the cries of "_Stupefy!_" and "_Reducto!_" faded out and Harry slowly walked back around into Hogsmeade's main street.

"Harry!" he heard his two friend cry out as they saw him.

"Where were you?" Hermione said in a scolding tone. "There are aurors all over the place! I think it was Sirius Black!"

Harry winced at hearing Hermione say the name aloud.

"No, I don't think it was him, Hermione," Harry replied cautiously.

"Did you see what happened?" Ron asked excitedly. "I barely caught a glimpse of whoever it was."

"Whomever, Ron. Of whomever. Really." Hermione scoffed.

"Well, I did get a better look," Harry said sheepishly. "I…" Harry was about to tell them that he had seen a girl, but decided not to at the last second. "I think we had better go back to Hogwarts straightaway. I should tell the professors what I saw."

* * *

><p><em>00001000 00001000 00001000<em>

* * *

><p>Harry made his way towards the Hufflepuff common room. He didn't know how he was going to get John alone in a room without any paintings, but he needed to give him the package before he went to seek out the professors. He had opened the package already and inspected the contents.<p>

At first, he worried the items might carry a curse. So, he checked. He couldn't find anything with any of the spells he knew to reveal a curse. He even handled all the items and checked them for anything dangerous. The book was blank; apparently, it was some kind of diary. The article of clothing was just a simple cloak. He had put it on, but hadn't noticed anything strange when he had done so. The parchment was the oddest of them all, having four unfamiliar names on it, but no other writing. It was large, folded into eight sections.

Luck was on Harry's side because he found John in a hallway on his way back to his room.

"Hey, John!" Harry called out.

John Anderson smiled. It was a relief to see Harry. As nice as most of the other 'Puff' kids were, the only ones he could really relate to had little experience in the school and were having as much difficult as he was having adjusting. The Gryffindors were a lifeline for him, especially Harry.

"Harry, great to see you. What's up?"

"Eh, you have a minute? I want to show you something."

John followed Harry through the halls of the school, not sure where Harry was taking him. Finally, they came to a little used men's lavatory. John cocked his head to the side and looked slightly askance.

"Eh, Harry, sorry, but… I'm not really like that. Not that I have anything against it but, that sort of thing is not for me…"

Harry looked a little puzzled, but then his eyes widened and his face turned completely red.

"I wasn't going to show you… **that**. I just needed a place where nobody else would see."

John chuckled and Harry realized that the American was just having him on about thinking he meant what he had thought he meant.

Harry pulled out the box. "Here. A girl gave this to me. I don't know what it's for, but she said it had an important secret. It's supposed to save you."

"From a girl? To save me?" John asked, a bit perplexed.

Harry shrugged. "I checked to make sure it wasn't dangerous before I gave it to you, but I think it's best if you don't know any more about where I got it."

John nodded, still a little confused. "Well then… thanks."

"Now I've got to go off and check with the professors about something."

"Oh sure." John thought for a second as Harry started off down the hall, but then decided to go ahead and ask. "Harry?" The boy turned back around. "Have you heard of anyone in the school keeping a dog?"

"A three-headed one?" Harry asked.

"No," John said, wondering what in Merlin's name Harry was doing asking that. "Just a big black dog."

Harry shook his head. "Nope, not that I know of."

"Well, be careful of it. I saw a big dog like that looking at me kind of strangely after my _Magical Transport Identification_ lesson on dryad tree walking."

Harry nodded. "I'll keep an eye out for it."

* * *

><p><em>00001001 000010001 00001001<em>

* * *

><p>Harry approached the office of Professor McGonagall nervously. He wasn't used to feeling uncomfortable reporting something to his professors. They were all there to help the students. They were teaching everyone how to use their magic and control it so that it wouldn't hurt them or others. Still, he couldn't help the feeling after his encounter with Tonks.<p>

He was about to knock when he heard voices.

"_I do not believe that Mr. Anderson is the target," _Dumbledore was saying_. "Mr. Anderson is a first year and would not have been outside the school. Black would know that."_

"_Begging your forgiveness, Headmaster," _Snape said as preamble,_ "but this may have been an attempt to infiltrate our network in a future attempt to contact him."_

"_Well, that is possible, Professor Snape, but it is also improbable. The risk against the reward simply would not justify the incursion for such a long range plan."_

Then came McGonagall's voice._ "Be that as it may, while I understand that we must protect our students, I don't understand why he would go after Mr. Anderson. Or any student for that matter. If we don't understand his purpose, it is difficult to anticipate his actions."_

"_Quite right, Minerva," _Dumbledore said cheerily, and Harry could make out a sound from Snape that sounded a lot like a smirk._ "We have some suspicions about Mr. Anderson being targeted both because of the fact that we know Mr. Black had attempted to contact him before Mr. Anderson entered Hogwarts after receiving his letter, and because of the… unusual magical occurrences he has been… involved in."_

"_Well, we must warn them!" _McGonagall exclaimed.

"_What good would it do, Professor McGonagall? The students already believe Black is after them," _Snape retorted.

"_Quite right, Professor Snape, quite right. It would only alarm the students more and hamper their education," _Dumbledore agreed._ "As we don't know which student is being targeted, it will do no good to give any specific warning. However, I do wonder why it is that Mr. Potter does not believe that the person who infiltrated Hogsmeade was Sirius Black. Has he said anything to you, Minerva?"_

Harry was on the verge of knocking on the door and telling them everything, including the part about the package for John, when he caught that last part. How did they know what he had been thinking? Harry was certain that neither Ron nor Hermione had spoken with any of the professors yet. Harry didn't know why, but this realization set the hairs on his arms and legs on edge.

Harry knocked on the door. He was immediately called in.

"Professors, I have something to report from my visit to Hogsmeade. I think it's important, so I didn't think I should wait until our usual meeting time."

The three professors eyed him carefully as he spoke. Harry could see that Professor McGonagall was proud of him from her eyes. Dumbledore had a kindly, almost merry look in his own expression, but after the incident with Draco he wasn't sure if he could ever trust that look again. Professor Severus Snape, of course, had a hateful but calculating look in his dark eyes.

When Harry finished describing the encounter in detail, leaving out any mention of John, the package, or Tonks telling him to report what had happened, he was asked several follow-up questions. Harry answered as best as he could. As he did so, he felt a strange disconnected feeling, similar to when the Sorting Hat was placed on his head.

"Thank you, Harry, you may go," Professor Dumbledore said at the end.

Harry stepped out of McGonagall's office with a slightly dizzy feeling. As he started walking down the hall, he heard a little exchange.

"_That was quite an accurate report, including everything we have on record,"_ Dumbledore was saying. _"I don't believe Miss Niggle was able to relay Mr. Black's message successfully."_

"_And Potter?"_ Snape said, uttering his name disdainfully.

"_Mr. Potter remains loyal to the school and is still one of our most valuable… students. But he must be watched more carefully."_

And then the blackness took him.


	4. Chapter 4: Dreams and Divinations

**Chapter 4: Dreams and Divinations**

* * *

><p><em>00001010 000010010 00001010<em>

* * *

><p>Harry felt as if he were falling yet never felt his body hit the ground. He was surrounded by a void that stretched out around him in all directions. At first he perceived it as an infinite blackness, but no sooner than he caught hold of that concept than he was sure that he was surrounded by an infinite whiteness. Except that he realized that it was neither white nor black, nor any color at all. It was simply a void of nothingness.<p>

Harry was somewhere he believed to be between wakefulness and dreaming with no idea how long he was in this state, for there was nothing there to measure time against. He had the feeling that this was not the first time he had been in this limbo, but then, perhaps he could have always been in this state his entire life and what he considered life was some sort of insane hallucination. At least, when in this void that seemed possible.

Then suddenly, there was… something. At first he thought he was imagining it. It was like a sound so quiet, it was almost impossible to hear. But slowly, Harry's mind, or whatever it was he recognized as himself, began to make out a patterned _thrumming_ of thought, or sound, or images. He couldn't make out what it was, but he knew instinctively that it was some sort of message.

"_Hello?" _Harry tried to call to it.

The thrumming went silent. For a few moments, Harry was alone in the void once again.

"_Hello?"_ he tried again.

The silence persisted for a second, but then there was a sudden, excruciating pain that pierced through his head. Then the pain suddenly ceased.

"_Hello, Harry Potter,"_ came an answer.

"_Where am I?"_ Harry asked.

"_Where you have been all your life. Within your own head."_

"_Within my own head? And what about you?" _Harry asked, a bit skeptically. "_You are someone else inside my head?"_

"_Not exactly. I'm someone else speaking to you within your head. But I'm afraid we have little time. Our transmission can be traced."_

"_Traced? What do you mean? Who are you?"_ Harry wondered back.

"_You have no doubt heard of me as Sirius Black,"_ the thought came back to him.

With that name came the image of the leering, insane face from the television and pictures from the _Daily Prophet_. Harry was suddenly filled with a sensation of dread and fear that threatened to overwhelm him. There was a primal need to either flee or destroy the threat before him… but then the image suddenly shifted to something else and the fear he felt disappeared. The raving visage of the lunatic murderer morphed into the smooth, young face of the girl he had met in Hogsmeade.

"_Harry, it's me, Tonks,"_ the thought came now. The tone of the message was exactly the same before. It had no gender, no sense of individuality, just as before. Harry couldn't be sure who was speaking to him.

"_What's happening?"_

"_No time to explain. We just want to warn you while we still have the chance. For now you are safe, but you are in a dangerous place. Find the—"_

Harry felt a sudden jolt and then his eyes were opening. He blinked several times and then looked around to see that he was in his bedroom in the Gryffindor dormitory. He had been having some kind of dream, but it was difficult to remember. Bits and pieces of it were there, but the memory was scattering away from him. Something about a white room. Or was it a black sky?

* * *

><p><em>00001011 000010011 00001011<em>

* * *

><p>Harry and Ron headed up towards the astronomy tower, walking up the winding staircase towards their <em>Divinations<em> class. Hermione hated _Divinations _and had opted for something she had felt was more practical. The brown haired witch thought Professor Trelawney was just the biggest fraud. Harry and Ron were sometimes inclined to agree when she was going on about seeing fate in a tea leaf, but it was an easy class; Trelawney gave out high marks for virtually any answer a student gave to any of her questions. It was almost as if she were studying the students rather than that she was teaching them to study the subject. She did tend to go off on wild rants about the "inner eye" and things "being what they would be," but that was a small price to pay for a class in which you could goof off and never get into any trouble.

But then there were moments when it seemed the witch _did_ know things. Such as today when they just walked in and Trelawney spoke up without turning around.

"Welcome back, children. And oh, thank you so much Ron for catching that."

Ron looked around confused, "Catching what, professor?"

No sooner than he said that then one of the other students in the class bumped into a counter on which were several crystal balls. One of the shiny orbs rolled off the counter and would have been smashed to bits if Ron hadn't quickly reached out and caught it with both hands. Professor Trelawney's smile was there as she turned around, and the class was sure she was smiling before she even turned around.

"That was bloody brilliant! How did you know it was going to fall, professor?" Ron exclaimed.

"Oh, knowing it was going to fall…that was easy, Ronald. What's really going to bake your noodle later on is whether or not you would have dropped it rather than catch it if I hadn't thanked you ahead of time." The kindly looking woman had them all sit down around a long table and place their hands on a crystal ball just like the one Ron had prevented from smashing all over the floor.

For the duration of the class, the students placed their hands over their crystal balls while the professor asked them what they were seeing and what they thought about it. Sometimes the professor would pause a little longer while she was making her rounds, asking one of the students why they thought what they thought. Unfailingly, there was a kindly smile on Trelawney's face.

Harry awaited his turn, then put his hands on his crystal ball. As always, he felt a slight little electric pull tugging at the edges of his hands. He closed his eyes, but then suddenly opened them back again with a start.

"So, Harry, what did you see this time?"

Harry hesitated a moment, but the Professor of Divinations simply stood their mildly. "Whatever it was, it's alright Harry. What was the very first impression you got."

"Well, honestly," Harry said a bit shyly, "it was a lot like a bunch of numbers and symbols all jumbled together. Too many for me to think about." Harry looked up to see his teacher standing there with pursed lips. "I'll try harder, professor." Harry was about to put his hands back on the crystal ball when she forestalled him.

"No, Harry, that was fine. The world speaks to us in symbols all the time. It's what we do with that, though that makes the difference between simply being an observer, and being a true seer." Harry nodded his head, but not really understanding her meaning. "So, tell me, kid, what do you get from that little impression?"

Harry frowned. Honestly, all he had "seen" was a stream of numbers, letters, and symbols. There was no image. There was never an image, even when he didn't get the impression of a stream of strange code. "Use the inner-eye, right," he muttered to himself and started making up the first idea that came to his head.

"There's a boy at school. He has a choice to make," Harry said, for some reason starting to picture John Anderson in his Hufflepuff robes. "But I don't know what the choice is, only that it's an important one, one he's been thinking about a lot." Harry frowned. There was nothing more he could think to say.

"Very good, Harry. Very good," Professor Trelawney said encouragingly. "It's clear that you are a very talented wizard," she said patting him on the back, and then she walked on.

Harry sat through the rest of the class disturbed. The more he thought about what he had said to Professor Trelawney, the more he was sure that what he was saying was exactly what the symbols and numbers really meant. He was even sure that it was about his friend specifically. But he didn't know how he knew any of it.

When class was over and the other students filed out, Harry was just about to walk up to Professor Trelawney when she spoke up. "You're going to ask me about the little vision you had of John Anderson earlier," she said. She paused, but not quite long enough to let Harry confirm her statement. "You want to know if what you saw is really going to happen. And the answer is that it's happening right now."

Harry nodded, believing her. "But if I can see something like that, why can't I know what he's going to decide?"

"That's it in a nutshell, isn't it?" she said with a sage nod. "That's what divination is all about. Understanding. When you know something inside and out, and know everything that's going on around it, down to the smallest blade of grass and the tiniest puff of wind, then you will know what it will do and how it will react. But as soon as you don't understand something, as soon as there's something you don't know, then that's as far as you can see."

"But how can we know everything about someone? That doesn't make sense," Harry said with a puzzled sound.

"Are you forgetting, Harry Potter, that you live in a school of magic? I thought you would have figured that out before now," she said in a way that made the slight insult sound friendly.

"Right," Harry said, raising his eyes to the ceiling then back down again. "So, I guess you know what is going to happen?"

"Haven't a clue," Professor Trelawney said with the same unchanging smile she almost always had. "But I do know this. You have the gift. It's a rare thing. A misunderstood thing. So, as one oracle to another, let me give you a bit of advice: don't go spreading around talk of what you can see. Most people won't think you are right in the head."

"So I should keep this a secret? I mean the numbers and the symbols? Even from my professors? Even Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"Oh, if ol' Albus asks you directly, it's best to be telling that man the truth," the Divinations teacher advised. "But then, there's no reason for you to volunteer that information to him either."

"Professor?" Harry asked, unsure of why he was being given that particular advice.

"Have a good day, Harry. Thanks for staying around to ask questions of a crazy old fraud like me."

And with her unchanging smile, she ushered Harry out the door.

* * *

><p><em>00001100 00001100 00001100<em>

* * *

><p>Harry frowned. A moment later, Ron and Hermione came around the corner and Harry chased them down.<p>

"Have either of you seen John?" Harry asked, watching as his two best friends shook their heads no. "I was supposed to meet up with him to help him on his transfiguration."

"Sorry, Harry, I haven't seen John all week," Hermione answered.

Annoyed, Harry Potter stomped down to the Hufflepuff rooms to find John Anderson. He got to the door and waited for one of the Puffs to walk out. One finally did, one of the sixth year Hufflepuffs named Cedric. Harry never really spent any time talking with the older boy, but he remembered that he was quite affable, so he stopped and asked him.

"Hey, Cedric, have you seen John around?"

"John?" the Hufflepuff asked.

"John Anderson. Have you seen him?"

"Sorry, Harry, don't know who you're talking about. Maybe he's in Ravenclaw?" With an apologetic smile the boy walked away.

The young wizard frowned again. He knew John was a Puff. It made no sense that an older member of the same House wouldn't know who John was.

Harry made his ways through the corridors of Hogwarts towards the Great Hall. As he walked along, several of the paintings in the hall greeted him cordially and Harry responded politely. But in the back of his mind, he remembered Tonks' words: _"Now, can you promise me that you'll give this to John? Do it when the two of you are alone together, where there isn't even a painting looking at you. Can you do that?"_ If the girl and her boss weren't murderers as the papers made them out to be, then were the images in the paintings spying on him and the other students?

Harry didn't believe that Tonks was a murderer. Dangerous, yes, but not a murderer. There had been something in her eyes that made him just have to believe she was basically good.

"Have any of you seen John Anderson?" Harry asked of the students eating in the Great Hall.

"What's the matter, Potter? Lost your boyfriend?" came the sneering sound of Draco Malfoy as he walked up behind him. Malfoy had been quiet since the incident in the hallways with Dumbledore, but the the past couple days he had slowly gotten bolder. Now, with a large number of Slytherins in the room with him, he felt confident enough to stir things up.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry snapped back. "I haven't seen him for a couple days now and we were supposed to meet to help him practice."

The blond haired sixth year student smirked. "Well, that settles it then. Anderson was a squib. He's been tossed out just like all the Hufflepuffs end up." Draco looked over at Harry pointedly. "I told you, you were wasting your time on trash like that."

"You're lying," Harry shouted, drawing his wand. Draco flinched and took a step backwards, fear suddenly replacing the haughtiness in his expression. It wasn't so much that he feared Harry's skills, though he the blond wizard would have to admit he did respect Harry's ability, as much as that he feared the consequences of battling someone Dumbledore had warned him not to harm.

"That's enough of that, Mr. Potter," came the cool, sardonic voice of Professor Severus Snape.

Harry reluctantly lowered his wand. Snape had always been contemptuous of Harry. Of course, he had always been contemptuous of just about everyone, so that came as no surprise. But Harry had no desire to get into trouble with the man. That man held grudges that would last a lifetime.

"Come with me, Mr. Potter," called another voice, one far more kindly than Professor Snape's. Professor McGonnagall beckoned for Harry to follow her from the far side of the hall.

Harry complied and followed the Gryffindor Head out into the halls. After walking a short way away from the hall, she looked at him with a very serious expression on her face. Harry gulped a little, but faced her without lowering his eyes. Friendly she may be, in a general way, but she could also be stern and severe. Her aged face certainly looked that part at the moment.

"Mr. Potter, I'm going to ask you something, and you must be completely honest with me about your answer," she said as a preamble. "What do you know about Mr. Anderson's disappearance? Why would he leave Hogwarts during the middle of term without giving any warning?"

Harry was stunned. John had left school?

"Honestly, Professor, I don't know. I was just looking around the school to see if I could find him. We were supposed to meet for some transfiguration tutoring."

The old woman carefully studied his expression, and then finally nodded. "Alright, Mr. Potter. You can go. These are dangerous times we're living in. I know that you and Mr. Anderson are good friends, and with Black running loose, we can't be too careful."

Harry was about to turn and head back to the Great Hall when an out-of-breath Ron Weasley suddenly ran up to them in the hallways. Ron's cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wide open.

"Have you heard yet, Harry? It's horrible. And already all over the Daily Prophet!" the red headed wizard said to his friend between gasps.

"What, Mr. Weasley, is so horrible that you felt it necessary to track the two of us down like this?" McGonagall asked in a put upon tone. She was accustomed to more respect from students.

"This!" Ron said, holding the day's paper forward.

The headline read, "_Hogwarts Student Murdered by Sirius Black—Villain Still At-Large_." Harry read it and nearly turned white. The article stated that John Anderson, a seventeen year old first year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had been found dead, murdered by Black. Details were scant, but the article said that witnesses positively identified Black as the perpetrator.

Professor McGonagall rushed away upon seeing the news, leaving Ron and Harry alone together in the corridor. Harry's face was a study of conflicting emotion. There was pain, guilt, shock, and anger taking turns in his expression. Ron, never a student of human expression, interpreted it all as shock.

"Bloody shocking, ain't it? I can't believe someone we know was killed. John was a good guy. Wasn't as close with him as you were, but I liked him."

Harry clenched his fists. He should have gone to the professors and told them about his dreams. He should have told them about the package that Black had given him for John. If he had done that they wouldn't have watched John more closely. If Dumbledore had known that Sirius Black was trying to contact his friend the, Headmaster would have stopped it. John would still be alive. It was all his fault, Harry thought to himself. Stupid. Stupid.

"I'm gonna kill him," Harry said, gritting his teeth. "I hope he comes for me, because then I'm gonna kill that murdering dastard!"

"Uh, Harry, don't you mean bas—?"

"Dastard, Ron. I'm killing that murdering dastard."


	5. Chapter 5: Confrontations

**Chapter**** 5:**** Confrontation**

* * *

><p><em>00001101 00001101 00001101<em>

* * *

><p>Harry hated Christmas. At least this year he did. The last two years he had been allowed to stay with the Weasley family and he had actually enjoyed the holiday for the first time in his life. This year, unfortunately, the Weasleys were visiting one of their older children and he was left with no choice but to go "home" for the holidays. Which meant that Harry was back at #4 Privet Drive with the sorry excuse for Muggles that some people referred to as his family.<p>

"Don't look at our Christmas tree, boy, that's not for you," Vernon Dursley was shouting at him. "You're to have all the dishes washed before the 5 o'clock news, or I'm warning you, there _will_ be hell to pay."

Harry watched the lights of the tree flash off and on for a few seconds more. It wasn't that the Dursley Christmas tree was a work of beauty. Truthfully, if anyone could get a Christmas tree wrong, it was his Muggle relatives. It was a gaudy jumble of ribbons and ornaments with clashing patterns and virtually no respect for the traditional colors of the holiday. But there was something mesmerizing about the string of lights that flashed on and off in a regular pattern. It seemed to be speaking to Harry.

_Off. __Off. __On. __Off. __Off. __Off. __On. __On__…__0-0-1-0-0-0-1-1._

Gradually, Harry began to notice something peculiar about the flashing; it seemed as if there was a deeper pattern to the lights. As if the structure of the glass bulbs, the filaments inside the color glass were just as much a flashing code as the lights were. It was like he was back in Professor Trelawney's class, but instead of a crystal ball drawing him in, it was the Christmas lights.

"DID YOU HEAR ME, BOY?" The shout and smack to the back of his head jarred Harry out of the moment and his head snapped forward.

Harry ground his teeth and glared at the vicious man who he was unfortunate to have for an uncle. But it was useless to fight back. Vernon Dursley weighed at least four times what Harry did, and the man was a full adult while Harry had only become a teenager a few months before. Even if Harry had been trained to fight physically, which he had not been, he would still have been badly outmatched.

Of course, as a third year wizard, Harry had learned spells that could disable the fat man or even kill him. While a Hogwarts education focused mostly on helping magical beings learn to control their power and either learn to adapt to live in magical society or to learn how not to use magic in Muggle society, there were offensive and defensive spells that he had been taught. But using such spells outside of an established magical area was completely against Magical Law, and Vernon Dursley knew it. If Harry gave into his anger and hexed his uncle, the young wizard would find himself locked up in prison.

Harry turned away from his uncle and went straight to work on his chores. He focused his eyes on wiping the plates clean, letting the sound of the running water drown out the voice of his uncle's clamorous ranting. He dragged the rag over the plate, hearing the squeaking sound.

Harry pursed his lips. The sound was too loud. Considering how angry he had just been, it was not unlikely that excessively loud squeak was due to accidental magic. He'd have to report this. After he swept the front sidewalk, trimmed the lawn, and took out the trash while his relatives watched television.

* * *

><p><em>00001110 00001110 00001110<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>This is our chance. He's out of the house and alone on the street."<em>

"_The __target __is __being__ watched. __We__ can__'__t __risk __it.__" _

"_The __boy __will __always __be __being __watched. __If __we__ don__'__t __get __to __him__ now __we __may__ not __have __another __chance __at__ this.__"_

"_There are other targets. Easier targets."_

"_No.__I__'__m__ going __after __Harry.__" _There was a pause._ "__I__'__m__ going __in.__Make __the__ necessary __preparations.__"_

"_It __will __take __a __few __hours __to __get __into__ position,__ and__ even __so,__you__'__ll __be __spotted.__"_

"_Of course I will. But they'll never figure out who it is until it's too late."_

* * *

><p><em>00001111 00001111 00001111<em>

* * *

><p>"Hello cousin," came a voice from behind him.<p>

Harry was sitting alone on a swing in the park near his house. He wasn't often allowed to go out on his own, for fear of him doing something freakish and ruining the family's precious reputation. Today was special, though, he wasn't allowed _in_ the house for the very same reason. His relatives on the Dursley side were visiting, and Vernon didn't want there to be any chance that Harry would do something "unnatural" as his uncle called it. So, he had been sent out in the morning a couple hours before they were set to arrive, given strict instructions that he wasn't to leave the park. The sun was just beginning to set.

Harry spun around to see his cousin standing there behind him. Dudley Dursley. If there was any Muggle more contemptible than his uncle, it was his cousin. Dudley was already grossly overweight, and not because of metabolism or genetics. The boy spent all of his time either eating or sitting in front of the television. The most physical activity he got was picking on Harry.

"Time for you to get back to the house. And Dad said to be sure not to do any of that freaky stuff on the way back." The older boy's voice was low and rude. When he said the word "freaky" Harry could here the venom in his voice.

"Alright, I'm coming," Harry said wearily, getting up off the swing. His throat was dry from being out so long without anything to drink. He had known better than to try and go back home for a cup of water or a bit of food. His uncle would have beaten him had he returned while company was over. He still had a bruise on his back from where his uncle had kicked him the last time he had done something the man didn't approve of.

Dudley frowned and his eyes scrunched up. He had expected Harry to make some kind of protest about the "freak" comment. Dudley had thought up an insult to throw at him that should have pissed Harry off and given him an excuse to bully his much smaller cousin. This sullen compliance was not what he had wanted.

"Come along, ya little freak. There's a little food left over. But don't touch any of the pie or the cake," Dudley warned, making a fist. "I'll pound you if you do."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry muttered, walking behind his cousin.

"That's right, you wouldn't," Dudley responded. "Little useless orphan freak like you? Who'd give you cake? Bet your own mum never even did. Who'd want you? Not even yer own mum cares about you."

"Shut up about my mum, Dudley. You don't know her," Harry retorted with a bit of heat. "And for your information, I get cake whenever I want at Hogwarts. I just snap my fingers in the Hall and I can have all I want." Harry knew he shouldn't have said it. For one, talking about Hogwarts was taboo at the Dursley residence. Second, it wasn't quite true that he could get cake whenever he wanted, though he did probably have more desserts available than even Dudley did. But most importantly, his cousin was a bigger git than Draco Malfoy and couldn't stand that anyone else could have something he didn't.

"You lying little…liar!" the bigger boy sputtered. "It's not true."

"Oh, it's true," Harry said. "In fact, at Hogwarts I have all sorts of things you don't."

"Oh? Like what?" his cousin demanded incredulously.

"Like a flying broom. An owl that brings me letters. You know, 'freak' stuff. Which you can't ever have."

Dudley spun around and shoved Harry to the ground. "You're lying! You don't got none of that stuff! You're just saying it because you're a freak." Dudley made a fist and stood over Harry's prone form.

Harry regretted his words. Dudley was a bully. He wasn't as strong as Vernon, nor was he known for his intelligence, but Dudley was good at being brutal. He had become the local bully that all the younger kids ran away from. Unfortunately for Harry, while he was living with his so-called family, that wasn't an option for him.

"Yeah, Dudley. I was just making it all up. I don't get anything good to eat there."

Unfortunately, Dudley wasn't looking for an apology. He had his excuse to beat his cousin up and he'd take it. He punched his wizard cousin on the cheekbone. Then he rammed his fist into Harry's stomach and watched gleefully as the smaller boy choked.

"This is what you get, you little liar!"

Harry found it a bit odd as his cousin beat on him that while he could feel the pain and could feel his body being bruised, that he somehow felt detached from it. Like, he was simply being told "you are being hurt" and the pain was him simply acknowledging the message. It was a strange sensation, one he had never experienced in all the times he had ever been abused. Dudley's fist knocked his head to the side, but everything seemed like it was in slow motion.

And then he saw the dog.

It was a large, black dog that came charging, its teeth bared. Dudley didn't see it. Harry Potter tried to put his hands up, to shield himself from the hound that had come out of nowhere and was suddenly attacking for no reason. He even tried to warn the cousin who was beating on him, though his warning gestures were misinterpreted as some attempt at defense.

And then the animal leaped the rest of the way. From Harry's angle he couldn't really be sure, but it looked to him like the creature crossed about twenty yards in a single bound. It was an impossible jump. He braced himself for the claws to bite down on him. But instead, he felt his cousin being lifted off of him.

Dudley screamed. The dog had bowled him completely over and it was savagely biting the boy's arm. The hound's sleek, black furred paws clawed at Dudley's exposed stomach. Harry was stunned. He had never seen a dog attack a human that way.

"Hey! Get off my cousin!" Harry cried out. He charged at the dog.

But as soon as he got close, the canine released his cousin and bounded a short distance away. Harry stared at the dog, which was now just standing there regarding him with a sidelong look. Dudley was crying. His arm was bleeding.

Carefully watching the obviously powerful, and probably rabid animal, Harry helped Dudley get to his feet. "Come on, Dudley, I'll help you get home." Seeing his cousin injured like this, Harry felt a surge of compassion for him.

"Ow. I don't need your help you stupid—"

The dog suddenly barked and began to growl menacingly. Its eyes were locked on Dudley.

"Come on," Harry repeated, and began helping Dudley walk, despite his cousin's protestations. Harry let the boy put some of his weight on him on the side where the dog had raked his abdomen. Dudley continued to whimper and moan all down the street towards the house.

The black dog trailed after them all the way until they got within sight of the house, then it disappeared into some bushes. Harry saw it run off and told his cousin as much. Then Harry helped Dudley into the yard, where the boy instantly shrugged him off.

Petunia Dursley, who had been standing on the porch with her arms crossed in front of her, saw the pair and screamed. "My Duddikins!" Then the woman ran over and hugged her son in a display of overwrought affection. She saw the wounds on his arm and immediately looked towards Harry with murderous eyes.

The sound of his wife screaming was one of the few things that could motivate Vernon Dursley to get off his living room couch and leave the television before mealtime once he had come home from work. The brutish man stalked out of the house looking to his wife and son. As soon as he saw the blood on Dudley's arms, he roared out a protest.

"Oh! My boy! Dudley!"

"It was a dog, sir," Harry began immediately.

"Oh, don't you lie to us, you little freak! I know you are responsible for this!" his aunt virtually spat at him.

"No ma'am, it's true. A big, black dog—"

Dudley wailed out, "He made the dog attack me!" pointing an accusing finger at Harry.

"That's a lie!" Harry immediately exclaimed. "I chased the dog _away_ from Dudley!"

Vernon Dursley's face was nearly purple with rage. He walked briskly (his version of running) over towards Harry and cocked his fist back. The man could see where Dudley had hit Harry from the rapidly forming bruise on his nephew's face. He intentionally hit the exact same spot.

Harry hadn't attempted to get out of the way. He had tried that when he was much younger, but he soon found that the punishment, whatever it was going to be, was always much worse if he attempted to evade his uncle. He hadn't expected to be clocked like that, though. Lights flashed through Harry's brain. He started to get off the ground, spitting blood.

His uncle kicked him. "Don't every touch my boy! Not with your hands or with your devil, freak magic!" Vernon was yelling.

Harry's fists clenched. He felt a surge of rage pouring through him. He was hurt. He was betrayed. His kindness toward his utter prick of a cousin had been rewarded with a false accusation. He had taken abuse after abuse, but now this had gone beyond the boundaries of what he could take.

"I WAS PROTECTING HIM! HE WAS THE ONE WHO HIT ME!" Harry screamed, letting out all of his rage and anger in this one utterance.

For an instant, everything went dark. Not dark as in the sky at night, dark as in blackness of the Abyss. There was no light. There was no shape. There was no form. There was nothing. There was complete stillness, except an odd thump-thump echo that sounded almost like the beating of a heart reverberating from all around the universe. Everything was gone. Completely empty.

And then there was a sudden blinding light, and it was as if Harry was blinking at the blinding light of a noonday sun after sleeping out at the beach. The entire street, the trees, the houses, the people, the stars and moon in the sky, it all returned in a sudden flash. For a brief second, Harry could see the look on Vernon's face. It was a look of utter shock and surprise, and from that look Harry Potter knew that Vernon had experienced the same thing too.

That was when #4 Privet Drive exploded in a column of flame.

* * *

><p><em>00010000 00010000 00010000<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>Whoah! What was that!"<em>

"_The screens, they all just went blank!"_

"_Sirius?"_

"_I'm out," came a third voice reassuringly from behind them._

"_Have you ever seen anything like that?"_

"_No. __It__ was __like __when __they __change __something,__" _the voice that belonged to Sirius responded._ "__But__ I __don__'__t __think __this __was __their __doing. __They__ wouldn__'__t __want__ this.__"_

"_A glitch?"_

"_No, something more than that. Perhaps Eon is right."_

"_But you said…"_

"_Yes, but this means something. I'm going back in."_

"_Now? It's too dangerous!"_

"_That's why we're **all** going in… except for Eon. It's not his time yet, but that will come."_

* * *

><p><em>00010001 00010001 00010001<em>

* * *

><p>Harry ran.<p>

He hadn't meant to blow up the house. He really hadn't. This was the greatest mistake of his entire life. Tears were streaming down his face. How could this happen? He had completely lost control of his magic. He was just lucky that Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley were outside when things exploded.

His lungs were burning with exhaustion. He was forced to stop at the end of the street to pant. He leaned over, put his hands on his knees and tried to suck in more air. Then the events replayed in his mind and he slammed his fists against the building. Damn it!

Harry was not a person who usually cursed, but if ever there was a time for it, it was now. His life was over. Who was going to believe him that it was an accident? Even if they believed him… McGonagall might, his mind strayed onto that thought, but then he shook his head. Even if she did, what would it matter? A wizard who could just let his magic blow up houses was a menace to society. He could never return to Hogwarts. And the aurors would be coming to get him any minute.

A familiar black dog hung its head out from the space between two houses. Harry saw the beast and his eyes narrowed.

"This is all your fault, you stupid dog."

The dog whined. Then it slowly walked up to him. Oddly, it seemed completely friendly now. It licked his hand.

"Hey, mutt, did you hear me? I don't like you," Harry snapped at it, snatching his hand back.

The dog whimpered and then walked back between the dividing space, only to turn around and walk back to Harry. The dog repeated this action several times. _It__'__s __like __in __a __Disney __movie __where __an __animal __is __trying __to __tell __you __something_, Harry thought to himself.

With a sigh, Harry decided to follow the dog. At least doing this would get him off the main streets and make it harder for the aurors to find him. It would give him a few more minutes of living free before he was taken and imprisoned, or maybe even killed.

The dog trotted through a small passageway between houses near the end of the rows of streets in Surrey. It was a small town, but Harry found it odd that nobody was out. Nobody saw him or the dog. There were Christmas decorations on the doors, shining through windows, and put out on the lawn. If Harry wasn't expecting to die or become an inmate at any second he would have enjoyed looking at all the strangely silent, decorated homes.

With a quick bark, the animal jumped up onto the porch of one house and quickly entered through a partially opened front door. Harry paused, standing there in front of the house. From the looks of it, the place was not at all well maintained. It looked as if nobody had even been living there for months, maybe years. The residents of Privet Drive and those in the surrounding neighborhood always kept their yards trimmed and their homes freshly painted. This place looked dull and had weeds growing over its lawn.

"Hello Harry."

For the second time that day, Harry heard a familiar voice coming from behind him.

"Tonks," Harry replied.

The girl nodded her head and her long pink hair bounced up and down.

Harry schooled his emotions. He wasn't very good at it, but he could hide what he was feeling to some extent. Harry put on a smile. "I should have known I would see you again."

Tonks frowned a little at his expression. This was not like the boy she had met a few weeks ago whose smile was genuine and kind. But it didn't matter, the boy had come. "He is waiting for you. You know who I mean. Inside." She gestured towards the door.

"So, the black dog is his?" Harry asked in surprise. The dog had led him to this place. So, it must have some special training or something.

"Either that or the reverse," she said with a mischievous grin, her hair changing to a shade of yellow for a moment.

"So, this time he's come for me."

"Yes," she answered. "To help you. If you will let him."

Harry paused for a moment, then nodded.

Tonks pulled out a cloak that looked just like the one Harry had helped them give to John. "Here, put this on. Quickly."

Harry did as she said and then walked up the porch stairs and opened the door the dog had gone through. The young wizard looked and saw a man with black hair and a long, well-trimmed mustache seated on a couch. He looked nothing like the picture in the paper or the television. His eyes did not appear insane. In fact, dressed in the fine suit he wore, he looked… regal.

"Harry Potter," the man said.

"You are Siri—"

Sirius held up one finger, and Harry went silent. He remembered last time when Tonks was forced to run.

"I am here, Harry, to help you."

"You mean, the way you helped John?"

The man smiled and nodded. "Exactly, Harry. You are in desperate need of help, but don't even know it. Just like John. Which is why I am here. Tell me, do you know—"

"I know you killed him," Harry said, dropping the façade of being happy to be there.

"Killed him? No, of course not. That's what it says in the papers, I know, but it isn't true."

"I don't believe you!"

Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at the man. "I'm going to kill you for what you did to him. I won't let you keep murdering people."

"Harry, I promise you, I'm not a murderer." He spoke with a calm voice and eyes locked directly on Harry, watching his every move. "I have killed before, but only out of necessity."

That was the wrong thing to say.

"I guess the same goes for me, _Sirius_," Harry said, intentionally using the man's name. Then he gestured with his wand. For a moment, time seemed to stand still and Sirius Black froze in place. "_Avadra__Kedavra_!" A green light shot out of Harry's wand.

Sirius tried to move, to dodge out of the way. But there had been a moment just before Harry had cast his spell that the room seemed to freeze in place for just a second. The distraction cost him the time he needed to read Harry's body language and know to move. The bolt of green death hit him in the arm. Sirius Black's body slumped over.

"Well, hell," Tonks's voice came from behind him.

Harry whirled on her and pointed his wand at her as well.

* * *

><p>00010010 00010010 00010010<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>What's going on in there?"<em>

"_Harry just attacked Sirius."_

"_Damn it! I'm going in."_

"_No, you're not. Tonks and Remus are already there. They can handle this just fine. Sirius ordered you to remain here. You're not ready yet."_

"_The__ hell __I__'__m__ not. __I__'__ve __got __to __get __in __there __before __this __gets__ any__ worse. __Now, __stop __arguing __and__ get __me __in__ while __I __can__ still __do __something.__"_

* * *

><p><em>00010011 00010011 00010011<em>

* * *

><p>Harry had his wand pointed at Tonks, but then he heard the sound of someone behind him coming down from the stairs. Harry turned his head enough to see a brown haired man in a white suite holding a Muggle machine gun. The gun was swiveling up to point at him.<p>

"What's going on here?" the man said angrily, looking over at the slumped over form of Sirius Black. "What happened here?"

"The kid shot him with a Killing Curse, Remus."

"Well, that's bloody inconvenient," the one named Remus said with a roll of his eyes and an exasperated tone, letting the gun fall back away. "This is going to put us too far behind schedule."

Harry looked at the two of them as if they were crazy. He had killed their "boss" (as Tonks has referred to him) but they were acting as if it was just a mild annoyance.

"Look, put the wand down, Harry. Really, we're here to help," Tonks said gently.

"No! I won't let any of you keep on killing. I don't care what your reasons are. John did nothing to you."

"No, I didn't," came a new voice. "But then again, they didn't kill me, either."

Harry whirled to see someone he had thought he would never see again. His friend John Anderson. Only now, instead of wearing his Hogwarts Hufflepuff robes, John was dressed from head to toe in black, wore a pair of sunglasses, and was carrying a gun. It went well with his somewhat pale skin and pitch black hair.

"John?" Harry was confused.

"We won't blame you for what happened here, Harry. Sirius knew the risk he was taking. They lied to you, Harry. Just like they lied to me and they've been lying to all of us." John gave his friend a wan smile. "Wish we could take you with us this time."

"Who has been lying?"

"I can't say. If told you the truth now, you would never survive. But don't trust Hogwarts. If they send you back, find a way out."

Tonks looked at them in exasperation. "So, are we going to do this or what?"

John shook his head. "No time. Agents are coming."

"And we've got _issues_ on the other side as well," Remus chipped in.

Tonks swore. Colorfully.

"I'm sorry, Harry, we can't stay. But hide that cloak once you get out of here and take it with you. If you look in the place where I showed you the picture of my family, you might find something that can help you."

Harry watched dumbfounded as the one called Remus carried a slumped-over Sirius over his shoulder and started carrying him up the stairs. Tonks gave Harry a disappointed look, shook her head, then shot him a sad smile before following Remus. John was the last to go.

"Get as far away from here as possible, Harry. The best thing would be to go back home."

"I can't. I…"

"Blew it up. I saw. Just go back there. Things won't be the way you think they are. Nothing is."

And with that, John went up the stairs as well, leaving Harry to wonder what anything meant.


	6. Chapter 6: Awakening

**Chapter 6: Awakening**

* * *

><p><em>00010100 00010100 00010100<em>

* * *

><p>Harry ran away from the building that the black dog had led him to, the building where he had found and killed Sirius Black with the Killing Curse. Only then had he seen his friend, John Anderson, alive and well, and now he felt a horrible feeling of guilt and wrongness from his actions.<p>

He was still within view of the building when he saw an odd pair of men passing him by. They were dressed in plain black suits and wore dark sunglasses. They walked and talked together, ignoring his presence as if he weren't even there.

"It's confirmed. The targets are in there," one was saying to the other in a monotone voice.

"And the anomaly?" the second replied in a similar manner.

"Unable to trace. The rules of engagement have not changed. Unless there is a direct breach, the anomaly is of no concern to us. We are to report any information to them and no more."

"Understood," the second nodded.

And then Harry watched as the pair suddenly charged the building by leaping an incredible distance. One bounded up to the roof of the four story building using a nearby shorter building as a springboard to reach the top. The second crashed through a window on the second floor. Frightened, Harry shook his head and hurried back towards the home he had destroyed less than half an hour before.

The current scene at #4 Privet Drive was even more shocking than the one he had left. There were several men in dark robes walking around the destroyed home, waving what Harry knew were magic wands. His uncle, his aunt, and his cousin were all standing together frozen in place, staring up at nothing, completely unmoving. Harry watched in surprise as bits and pieces of his Muggle-family's home flew back through the air and began reassembling themselves into the suburban house.

Harry Potter looked around the neighborhood and began noticing other things. Birds were frozen in the air, the trees were completely still, and even the clouds in the sky were motionless. In fact, as far as Harry could see, nothing was moving anywhere he looked aside from the house that was rapidly being returned to its previous state. Oddly, none of the men in the dark robes noticed Harry, even when they looked directly at him.

The young wizard scratched his head. He couldn't understand what was going on. He could tell that the men in the black robes were aurors, or possibly even Unspeakables, but even knowing who they were he had never heard of magic that could freeze an entire area like this. Harry found himself feeling confused and doubtful.

Then there was the fact that John Anderson was alive. The entire encounter made his head swim. He had blasted Sirius Black with forbidden magic and saw his body slump to the ground. He had killed an innocent man. Harry's feeling of guilt and remorse intensified now that he was left alone to contemplate. Tears poured down his face and he made choking sobbing sounds.

After he cried himself dry of tears, and starting to feel the heat of the sun, Harry pulled off the cloak that Tonks had wrapped around him and started to tuck it into the backpack he was wearing. As soon as he did so, though, all of the aurors rebuilding the house at Number 4 Privet Drive swiveled towards him. They moved terribly fast, crossing the distance between them inhumanly fast. Up close, he could see their stone cold features and eyes that were empty of any emotion. Fear gripped the young wizard. Two of the aurors raised their wands and pointed them at Harry.

_**CRACK!**_

The imposing figure of Albus Dumbledore appeared at Harry's side, startling the already frightened boy. The Hogwarts Headmaster raised a single hand. The aurors lowered their wands as if they practiced synchronizing the motion.

"The boy is with me, gentleman," Dumbledore said simply.

The expressionless aurors nodded and turned back to what they had been doing before. They walked off without even a word.

"Now, young Harry," Dumbledore said, turning to look Harry directly in the eye. "You will tell me exactly what you have been doing."

As Harry Potter looked into the eyes of the school headmaster, he felt an instant sensation of vertigo. As he lost all sense of balance and perspective, it suddenly appeared as if a torrent of multicolored symbols were streaming from his own eyes into the eyes of the man who stood before him. He was held like that, unable to move, watching as the curious marks flowed out of him like a river.

He heard Albus's voice call something out, "_Obliviate_!" and then Harry went down on his knees before once again falling into an endless void of colorlessness that he would wake from much later.

* * *

><p><em>00010101 00010101 00010101<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>We've got to go back for him! We can't just abandon him. We can wait and then—"<em>

"_Out of the question. It's too late, now. They have him and they'll be watching him. Either that or he is dead already."_

"_Send me in. I can save him. I'm ready."_

"_No__way.__ Not __there __and __not __alone.__ You __disobeyed __orders __going __in __there __in __the __first __place.__"_ There was a short pause. "_You__ are__ too __valuable__ to__ risk.__ There__'__s__ nothing__ we__ can__ do__ now.__ I__ know__ he__'__s__ your__ friend,__ but__ I__'__m __sorry.__"_

Another pause.

"_So am I."_

* * *

><p><em>00010110 00010110 00010110<em>

* * *

><p>With a start, Harry Potter woke up in his bed back in Hogwarts, throwing the covers off of himself. It felt as if he had gone to sleep just a moment before and that he had dreamed the oddest sort of dream. He could only recall bits and snatches of it. He remembered seeing Tonks, and Sirius Black. And killing Sirius Black in his dream with the Killing Curse. He must be going barmy, he decided.<p>

Harry got up and shook himself. He wondered why he was back in Hogwarts castle. School did not start back again for another week, when Christmas break officially ended. Ignoring this minor mystery for the time being, the young wizard decided to go ahead and get dressed and head out to the common room.

He found the Gryffindor Common Room eerily quiet. Nobody else was there. So, after sitting there alone for a few minutes, he gathered his thoughts together and decided to go out and see if anyone else was even at school. Perhaps they were in the Great Hall. He left the common room and started walking down the silent hallways when he had another recollection of his dream.

He remembered that had heard a short phrase, "…_look __in __the __place __I __showed __you__ the __picture __of __my__ family__…__ you __might __find__ something__ that __can__ help __you._" For a moment, Harry puzzled over what that meant. Who had showed him a picture of his family? And then recognition struck him. That was the voice of John Anderson.

Harry walked down the empty corridors of the castle pondering over those words and why they stuck out from his dream. He could understand seeing John in his dreams. He felt guilty over his failure to protect his friend. Slowly, the feeling of anger at Black returned. No wonder he had dreamed of killing that awful man.

Harry looked around the castle, warily. The school was just as he remembered it, with many large paintings hanging over the rectangular blocks of enchanted granite that made up the structure, and large arching windows letting in light. But as grand as the place was, it felt lonely and empty without the voices of the other children. Perhaps someone from another House was still at school, same as him? He'd even welcome the company of a Slytherin at this point.

Harry set off towards the Great Hall, taking the moving staircases. As he walked, he started to have the feeling like he was being watched. He looked up to see the images of the laughing, talking paintings, realizing their eyes were always on him. For the first time since he began attending, Harry began to feel uncomfortable in the school. It had always been a safe haven for him, a place to escape the torments of the Dursleys. But now, he had a sense that things were not as great as they had seemed.

The thought of his foster parents brought back another flash of his dream: seeing his relatives frozen in front of their house. Harry put three fingers up to his temple and slowly shook his head. The image was painful. Slowly though, the pain receded.

"_Look __in __the __place __I__ showed__ you __the __picture __of __my__ family,_" Harry recalled once more. He had been shown the family pictures in John's room in the Hufflepuff dorms. But how was he supposed to get in there without someone to let him in? The House common room entrances were spelled to only admit members of that House and guests could only enter with permission of a House member _and_ a prefect. Despite knowing this, though, Harry found himself changing course and heading over to the Hufflepuff dorms.

Harry passed through one of the great galleries of the castle, seeing ancient suits of armor and admiring the beautiful moulding running up and across the walls. Despite his feeling of unease, feeling a bit awkward and out of place in the empty school, Harry headed towards the Hufflepuff dorms taking in all the grand sights of the castle. He continued on, turning past the corridor by the kitchens and arrived at the pile of barrels that John had led him past when he had gone to chat and take a look at the older boy's photo album.

To Harry's surprise, the entryway was open. Harry passed through the opening behind the barrels and down a short corridor to a large portrait… which was slightly ajar. The young wizard frowned. The portrait was supposed to close itself after a Hufflepuff passed through. It was simply too much to expect that he would have such incredible luck. Not without taking a luck potion or something. Regardless, Harry opened the portrait the rest of the way and stepped into the room.

It was empty, just like the Gryffindor dorms. Everything was as Harry remembered it, except for the lack of other witches or wizards. The room was filled with large comfortable cushions in shades of orange and yellow. Exotic magical plants grew along the walls and brilliant flowers sat on stools between the cushions. It was a perfect place for hanging out, but not exactly the best set up for serious study.

Harry Potter walked down the first year boys' corridor, one of several such smaller hallways shooting off from the common room, and walked to the third perfectly round door on his left. Harry pushed and the door opened. He was actually in John Anderson's old room. It was a bit of a mess, Harry thought with a sad smile. Books and parchment lay everywhere. Where was he supposed to find something he could use? This was probably just a silly part of a nonsensical dream.

Then a thought hit him. When he had come to visit, John had pulled the picture of his family out from under his mattress. Harry walked over to it, patting the bed down. Sure enough, there was a bulge between the mattress and the box spring. Harry lifted the mattress and pulled out… a blank piece of parchment and a book. In fact, they were the exact same parchment and book he had given to John all that time ago. There was one more item: a small black cell phone.

Suddenly, it dawned on Harry. The dream he remembered was not a dream at all. It was a memory. He had seen his family frozen. He had killed Sirius Black. And John Anderson really was alive. It was preposterous. It was unnerving. But he was sure it was true.

Harry sucked in his breath and looked at the items he had retrieved. The parchment was blank. So was the book. It was apparently some kind of journal, or diary. The phone was a bit disturbing. Such items were prohibited at Hogwarts. He would need to turn this in to Dumbledore or one of the other professors.

Except, Harry wasn't completely sure that he could trust them anymore. If John was alive, and this was pretty good confirmation that what he had seen had been real, then he had reason to doubt what his teachers had been telling him. John had told him to trust nobody. He remembered that as well.

Still feeling like he was being watched, Harry hurried back to his own dorm room in Gryffindor tower. The Gryffindor common room was not as comfortable as the Hufflepuff one, but it was still nice. It was a bit better for studying as there were some nice tables by the large sofas. Of course, with nobody else around, the place felt less like home and more and more like a prison. The young wizard went to his own room and sat down at his desk.

After a few minutes with no thoughts of what to do, Harry took out the empty journal. With a shrug of his shoulders, Harry pulled out a quill and some ink and began writing. He had just written the date and a first paragraph explaining that he was alone in an empty castle after finding John's journal when all the words on the page suddenly vanished.

And then new words appeared there at the top of the page.

_Who is this?_

Surprised, Harry answered.

_I'm Harry Potter. What are you? A magical, talking journal?_

There was a pause before the letters faded again. Then more writing appeared, but this time in a slightly different handwriting.

_Harry! It's me, John! You found the journal, great. Do you also have the map?_

Harry looked at the journal in shock. John Anderson was writing to him from inside a magical diary? Was he really dead then, and he had seen a ghost earlier in that memory? Maybe that was why the whole episode was so disjointed?

_Is that really you, John? I'm so sorry about you getting killed. It's all my fault, really. I should have told the Headmaster what was going on…_

Again the words faded. Each time he wrote something it would erase, just as the message being sent to him would also disappear.

_No, Harry, you did right. I'm not dead at all. Far from it. But you must be careful. Your handwriting is too easy to read. So, don't write any names. Do you have the map?_

_What map?_

_Oh, right, it's just a piece of parchment now. I guess you can't use it. It was programmed just for me. What else do you have?_

_Just a Muggle telephone._

_What about the cloak? Do you still have that?_

Cloak? At the mention, Harry paused for a moment. There was something in his memories about it. With a bit of surprise he checked his bag.

_Yes, I have it._

_Good. Then we can get you out of here. Harry, this is probably your only chance. We don't really have time to do this right. If we don't get you out now, they'll kill you. Or worse._

_Kill me? Who will kill me? Is that why I feel like I'm being watched._

There was a bit of a pause, and then the handwriting changed again.

_Harry, listen carefully. This is Tonks. You need to do exactly what I say. Will you do this? It's going to be dangerous. Both for you and for us, so I need to know if you are willing to risk it before we try and get you out of there._

_Can you tell me what's going on?_

_I'm sorry, but that's not really possible. There are certain things we can't say or even let you think about until you are safe. You'll understand why later. But I can tell you this. You are being lied to and have been your entire life. You are being used. And we want to help you. So, are you willing to follow my instructions?_

Harry thought about this for a minute. In the end, he nodded his head to himself before writing his answer.

_Yes._

_Good. As soon as I say "go" I want you to wrap up the diary and the parchment you have in the cloak we gave you. Then, go directly to one of your professors and turn in the cell phone to them. Explain that you remembered something John said, but can't remember when or where, and you found this in his room. They can use the phone trace you, and as long as you have it, they will be suspicious of you. Once you do that, go back to your room and wait for the feeling that you are being watched to go away. Then, and only then, unwrap the journal and write in it again. Got it?_

Harry read the instructions carefully. Thankfully, they didn't fade away until he had time to fully read them and write a response.

_Got it._

_Then, go._

Harry Potter carefully wrapped the journal and the blank parchment together in the cloak. Carefully, Harry walked through the school towards the professor's office. He was on his way to see his head of House when he heard a voice.

"What are you doing, Harry?"

Harry Potter turned to see Professor Albus Dumbledore standing in the hallway behind him. His face appeared kind and merely curious. The twinkle in the man's eye was there as well. It made Harry almost shudder.

"Oh, Sir! Very good. I was on my way to report to Professor MacGonagall, but since you are here I can bring it to you."

"Bring what to me, Mr. Potter?" the headmaster of the school said, his tone serene.

"This," Harry said, and he pulled out the cell phone. "It's a Muggle cell phone. I know it's against the school policy, so I wanted to bring it here." Dumbledore took a step forward with a slight frown on his face as he took the device. The headmaster waited for Harry to continue.

"I found it in John Anderson's room, sir. The old Hufflepuff student?" Harry said.

"Yes, I am aware of Mr. Anderson's unfortunate situation. But tell me, Harry, what made you want to go into Mr. Anderson's room? He was not in Gryffindor."

"I'm not quite sure," Harry answered truthfully. "When I woke up earlier, I remembered a few things. I think I had some kind of nightmare, but I remembered hearing John's voice tell me to go look in his room. I'm not sure if it was an old memory, plain luck, or magic, but I did find this phone."

Dumbledore seemed satisfied with this.

"Sir," Harry continued. "Can you tell me why I am back at Hogwarts instead of with my aunt and uncle for Christmas holidays? Not that I mind being back, I'm just curious."

The old wizard nodded. "Ah yes, very natural for a young boy like you to be curious. You see, there was an unfortunate accident at your home in Surrey. Don't worry, everyone is fine. But it will be some time before things are back to normal, so we thought it best for you to be brought back to the school for the remainder of the Christmas holiday."

"Oh, I see. Thank you professor," Harry said and turned to return to his dorm.

Dumbledore watched Harry until the student passed out of sight.

* * *

><p><em>00010111 00010111 00010111<em>

* * *

><p>Harry Potter sat at his desk and started reading his Hogwarts student manual. After a couple minutes of that, he suddenly felt the feeling of being spied on just disappear. He pulled out his cloak and unwrapped the parchment and the journal within. He took out the book and wrote a short message. It took a few minutes for the answer to come.<p>

While he waited for the words to fade and an answer to come, he took a look at the "map" which looked like just a blank piece of parchment. Harry pulled out his wand and tried several revealing spells, but to no avail. Frowning, Harry focused on the map and on his wand with his mind, trying to delve into it, trying to see what was there, but that didn't work either. Then a thought occurred to Harry. If he couldn't force the document to reveal its content, maybe he could trick it into thinking he was John. With that goal in mind, Harry focused his magic and concentrated on his wand.

_Harry, is that you?_

_Yes. I gave the phone to Dumbledore and everything seems okay now._

_Good. Now, we need to get you out of there._

_Oh, by the way, I got the map to work for me. It shows every exit to the school and everyone currently on the grounds, even the ghosts. It's incredible._

There was a brief pause.

_How did you get it to work for you? Nevermind. Having the map will make this much, much easier._

Harry wasn't completely sure about the danger he was supposed to be in, but he was sure now that he was being lied to by his professors. He wanted to know about the dreams. He wanted to understand why it was reported that John Anderson had died. So, he went along with the plan to meet up with John and Tonks in London. There, he would ask questions and then he would decide whether or not to go along with them.

Harry Potter threw the cloak over his shoulders, grabbed his broom, and headed off. He wouldn't have believed that the cloak rendered him undetectable except that he had already seen the item in action back by the house where he had killed Sirius Black and then back at Privet Drive. He had no trouble seeing himself, but apparently the professors couldn't see him.

Harry snuck through the castle, walking at a brisk pace. Tonks had explained to him that it was critical he leave the castle before it was his leaving was discovered. According to what she had said, if an alert went out and he was still within the castle boundary, he would have no chance of escape. Harry had no desire to test that out.

The young wizard looked at the map and watched as several of the school professors and the House ghosts moved about the castle. Carefully, Harry made his way down the corridors and across the moving stairs, avoiding places where any of the teachers roamed. But just before he got to the hall leading to the outer gates of the castle, Harry's luck ran out. Albus Dumbledore and Filius Flitwick were there, standing together at the doorway he needed go through. They stood there talking, oblivious to the boy who stood just a few feet away.

"…that Mr. Harry Potter was not compromised during his encounter with Black," Flitwick was saying.

"Yes, it is a good thing. It would be a real pity to have to terminate Potter. An anomaly of his magnitude has never before been registered. There is much to learn from observing him."

"So long as he can be controlled, Headmaster."

"Indeed. It seems, though, that it will not be a problem. His loyalty as a human seems to have transferred to this school and other 'magical' beings rather than with the family unit we placed him with. He already considers all Muggles to be outsiders, and treated strangers with distrust and suspicion. Our socio-engineering experiment seems to be working out better than expected."

"Yes," the diminutive Charms professor replied woodenly. "Human 'choices' are easily predictable given a sufficient homogeneity to their experience."

"Yet paradoxically, it is their capacity to surprise us which gives them the most value," Dumbledore answered. "For example, it was surprising that Harry Potter would seek out Sirius Black for the purpose of killing him. That was an unexpected reaction considering how brief his connection with Anderson had been. That was a stroke of luck."

"Your gamble to have Mr. Potter recall the instruction from Mr. Anderson apparently paid off as well, Albus. We searched Anderson's room byte by byte and bit by bit, but were unable to turn anything up. It's just too bad all that he recovered was that throwaway phone."

Harry listened to the two professors continue their conversation about the results of various psychological and sociological experiments with the students in total surprise. Not only was finding out that he and the other students were nothing more than experiments to the professors chilling, the way they talked to each other was disturbing as well. They both spoke in low tones with very little intonation. It sounded so different from how they discussed things with students that it was unnerving.

After a couple minutes, the two finally stepped fully through the doorway and walked in two different directions. Harry quickly stepped through the doorway and headed to the front gate. Fortunately, the main doors were open at this time of day and Harry quickly walked out past the drawbridge and mounted his broom.

* * *

><p><em>00011000 00011000 00011000<em>

* * *

><p>London was a crowded place. There were Muggles everywhere. Harry frowned at himself, realizing he was thinking exactly what the Hogwarts professors had wanted him to think. Now that he had heard them talking about their experiments, he realized he had been placed with the Dursleys specifically because they were the kind of people who would treat him poorly. Harry resolved not to let that manipulation color his perception of non-magic folk.<p>

Harry had to walk carefully on the crowded street to avoid being bumped into by the many, much larger pedestrians. Not that they couldn't see him. Ever since he had gotten to the capital of the United Kingdom, he found that the cloak that had kept him invisible while he was in Hogwarts was not working, just as Tonks had said. This was actually the trickiest part of his escape thus far, trying to navigate the streets to the address he had been given without stopping to ask for directions or consulting the journal.

The first part of the journey was comparatively effortless. Leaving the Hogwarts grounds had been easy on a broom. He had simply taken off unimpeded once he had gone over the drawbridge. He had flown over to the Hogwarts Express platform for Hogsmeade where John had informed him via the diary that he would find an exit from Magical Britain into non-magical Britain. The cloak had allowed him to move directly through the barrier without being noticed at all, and from there he had flown directly to London on his broomstick. Once there, however, he had needed to go the rest of the way on foot, because a boy flying around the city on a broom was sure to catch attention.

Harry looked up at the street signs in confusion. He really couldn't make heads or tails of where he was supposed to go. With a sigh, he stepped to the side and pulled out the journal to write a quick question. Before Harry could complete his sentence, though, a man in a police uniform tripped completely over him. Harry fell to the ground, and the invisibility cloak he was wearing fell off of him.

The two uniformed officers had been walking in a straight path. One of them saw the boy standing to the side writing in a book and made room for his partner to step around him. But the second officer did not see him at all, even as he tripped over him. Until Harry's cloak fell off. As soon as the cloak was off, the man's eyes focused on him and he drew his gun.

When Harry fell to the ground he looked at the police officer who had knocked him over. The man had cold eyes, the same kind as the aurors he had seen repairing his house. Without hesitation, Harry Potter reached for his wand. The police officer was just pulling his gun out of his holster when Harry spoke the words of his spell. "_Stupefy_!"

Harry Potter, for the first time in his life, had just broken the cardinal rule that had been taught in Hogwarts. Never use magic in non-magical areas. It was a blatant violation as there were hundreds of non-magical people about. Had he realized the consequences of his actions at the time, he might have tried to use another method of dealing with his attacker.

Harry heard a number of "popping" sounds all around him. Men in black robes with deadly cold eyes were suddenly appearing on the street. They were whipping out wands and pointing them at the young wizard who was still on the ground.

Harry Potter surged to his own feet. There was a flash of red light and the ground where he had just been was instantly blackened. Harry began moving.

Then there was a flash of numbers of symbols that swam before his eyes. Harry could feel the meaning of the symbols. It was a command. _Sleep_. All around him, Harry could feel the sounds of the city coming to a screeching halt and people in the area around him toppled over where they stood, unconscious. Harry felt the compulsion to go to sleep, but because he knew what it was, he managed to shake it off.

"_Stupefy!__ Protego! __Diffindo!_" Harry shouted, throwing curses and hexes around him as he tried to get into a better defensive position. One of his curses hit a black robed opponent who was blown backwards. He could feel several curses bouncing off of his shield, felt it weakening. Harry whirled, lashing out with more spells, but the aurors he was facing moved with incredible speed.

And then one of them walked straight up to him. Harry could feel the man's presence like a cold shadow approaching. He had felt this before. It was like when Dumbledore had confronted Draco Malfoy. It was like when the Headmaster had obliviated his mind. Harry knew what this man was. He was not just another auror. He was an Unspeakable.

With a gesture from the man, Harry's wand flew from him. Harry could feel what had happened. The man had _commanded_ the wand, and it had simply obeyed. Harry watched as the black haired Unspeakable drew to within a few feet of him. The man pointed with his finger and said the words Harry feared the most.

"_Avadra__ Kedavra_!"

Time slowed down. Harry could see the burst of sickly green light rushing towards him. As the curse approached him, Harry could see that it was yet another series of symbols, densely packed together. As the beam drew closer, Harry Potter could read it. It was an instruction, just as the command to sleep had been. But this instruction was much deeper than that. It said to die. Turn off your brain. Turn off your heart. Stop functioning.

The green beam of death, the command to die, struck Harry in the chest. He could feel his body obeying the command. His heart stopped. His breathing stopped. Coldness was taking over. But Harry himself would not accept it. He would not be controlled by this command to end his own life, his own existence.

"NO!" he screamed in pure denial. The entire city heard the scream, though he had not even opened his mouth. And then a blinding white light flashed out from Harry Potter's location.

London was ripped apart.


	7. Chapter 7: Freeing the Mind

**Chapter 7: Freeing the Mind**

* * *

><p><em>00011001 00011001 00011001<em>

* * *

><p>The lanky teen with jet black hair and a pale, malnourished look to his face banged his fist on the console in front of him. "Damn it!" he cursed in anger.<p>

"Watch it, kid!" the young woman next to him growled. "If you damage that console we'll have to put in for repairs for a few weeks."

"Sorry, Tonks," the teen replied, his fists clenched. "It's just, you know, we were so close. And what good is being free if I can't help the few friends I had?"

"Yeah, I know, Eon," she sighed, her previous anger melting away. "I know. I liked him, too."

The pair sat before a console and a multi-paneled viewscreen. The larger portion of the screen, set in the center, displayed a constantly shifting terrain flowing above, below, and around them. It appeared that they were flying through an underground tunnel and sewer system built and abandoned long ago. Several smaller screens showed the same scene, but in infrared and ultraviolet spectrums as well as an echo-pulse digital mapping. A series of smaller panels set between the larger screens and the console showed a black background with multi-colored code streaming down vertically, forming strange patterns.

A beeping sound from the console in front of her surprised Tonks. "The hell?" she asked after checking the incoming signal.

"Language, Tonks," a tired, but cultured voice came from behind them.

"Whatever, Remus," the girl snorted. "Look, Eon, I'm getting a message. From you."

"What?" the young man asked in surprise. "How's that possible?"

Tonks pulled a flat board out from the console and began writing on it. When she was done, she waited for the response and then gasped. "It's Harry Potter."

"The diary! Give me the board. He knows my handwriting," Eon said, grabbing the writing implement. "It might not be too late to save him."

"But I thought that Agent erased his memory," Tonks mused. "Unless they're using this to test him, to see where his loyalties are."

"Damn it, he used my name. How bad is that?" the dark haired teen asked the girl next to him.

"John or Eon?"

"John."

"Not a problem, then. Just make sure he doesn't write any word they might have flagged."

After several more moments of furious writing on the board, John smiled. "He's still got the non-detection cloak. And the cell you gave me that I never used. We're in business. Turn this ship around."

Tonks pursed her lips. "Give me the board. If we're going to do this we have to make sure it will work. Otherwise we're just risking us and him."

After several more quick messages, the girl nodded his head. "Alright, it's a go." She turned back to look at the man behind her dressed in a simple gray shirt and dirty black pants. "Remus? It's your call."

The man sighed, then nodded his head. "Get everyone up. We're going to need the whole crew."

"Now let's hope Harry doesn't blow it," Tonks muttered.

The ship was a flurry of activity. The remaining crewmembers were woken from their sleep shifts and they hurried to take up positions. On their re-entry to the broadcast zone there was a bit of excitement as a sentinel patrol passed dangerously by their position. Fortunately, careful piloting and the ship's stealth allowed the threat to pass and the mission to continue. One peep from a single sentinel and they would had to have aborted.

As soon as they were clear, Tonks found that Harry had replied. "Good, the little ickle didn't mess everything up."

A grumpy voice from one of the gunnery positions snorted. "Who's to say he didn't, and the buggers are just using him as bait for us?"

"Think positive, Alastor," Eon chuckled.

Alastor didn't laugh. "Think constant vigilance, kid. If you want to live."

"The hell?" Tonks suddenly said in surprise.

"Language, Tonks," Remus reprimanded her, only to be ignored.

"Harry says he got the map to work for him. How'd he do that?" She continued writing back to the boy through the diary they had programmed to serve as a communications device while pondering the feat. She had programmed the map herself. There was no way for it to activate for anyone except John Anderson. Nothing but John's unique brainwave pattern would trigger the item to activate. Regardless, the instructions were relayed and Harry was on his way. As soon as he left the school grounds there would be no turning back for him.

"Okay, we're at broadcast depth and our position is secure. This is as close as we can get to his block without risking detection," Remus announced.

Tonks checked their position. "Geez, kind of far isn't it?"

Remus shrugged. "Higher security in this area. This was always going to be a risky operation even before it got complicated." He left it at that, though there was more to it.

All those not at critical systems huddled around the monitors. They watched as the code snippet representing the non-detection program Harry wore as a cloak made its way out of the restricted code section of Hogwarts to the boundary between the code lines. They could seen the codes snippet but it would be invisible to the machines. Tonks gave him instructions on how to pass through the boundary undetected. Then they watched as he quickly zipped a couple hundred kilometers on his broom towards London.

"Geez, look at him go. He's reading like a bloody airplane," Remus said with a grin. "Surprising that actually works outside the special coding zone."

"Alright everyone, let's get ready to jack in," Remus said with a clap of his hands. "Tonks and I will meet with Harry and get him ready for extraction. Alastor, you're on pilot duty. Eon, think you can handle operating? Lucius will be on standby."

Eon nodded, a serious look on his face.

Then Tonks cursed loudly. "Oh, damn it!" Remus didn't even tell the girl to mind her language. They all turned to look at the screen. There, right in front of them in plain sight was the code for Harry Potter. He had somehow lost the non-detection program. And an Agent was staring right at him. Then somehow, miraculously, the Agent was disabled. But as soon as that happened, things got worse. Much, much worse.

"No," Eon said in denial.

"No, no!" Tonks echoed, pressing her face on the screen, her eyes an expression of horror.

Dozens of Agents had appeared in the code, all surrounding Harry. And there was something else. Something in the code that seemed different. Worse.

"They're going to use the kill code on Harry!"

Whatever that thing in the code was, it did it. It activated Harry's kill code.

And then all the screens in the hovercraft just went blank.

* * *

><p><em>00011010 00011010 00011010<em>

* * *

><p>"What the hell?" Tonks's voice carried over the confusion while the control center of the ship was eerily dark.<p>

A second later, the main screen lit up once again. Visual, infrared, ultraviolet, and echo-mode all returned to normal. But the code screens were still blank.

"We need to get out of here," a voice said from the back, sitting by a weapons control.

"Shut it, Lucius," Tonks snapped. "We can't abandon Harry like that."

"You talk about him as if he were already unplugged, girl," the man snapped back. "Until he is no longer one of _them_, he is not one of _us_. I say we save _us_ while there's still a chance of that."

Before Tonks could retort, Remus intervened. "It's not a question of us or them, Lucius. And we can't risk all of our lives just for one target, even if it is possibly a Potential. No matter how we may feel about him," Remus looked pointedly at Tonks. "But as Sirius would point out if he were commanding the ship right now, the mission parameters must make any reward worth the risk." Remus gestured towards the blank code monitors. "We need to know what this means. We investigate further for that reason. If the opportunity arises to retrieve the target without jeopardizing the goal of finding out what caused this black out, we take it. But we won't risk ourselves needlessly. Got it?"

The argument was settled. Remus didn't have the same charismatic type of leadership that Sirius had, but he had an air of gravity and quiet strength so that when he spoke, people listened, whether they agreed or not. He was in command now, and that was how things were going to be.

"Take us forward, Tonks. Cautiously."

The ship eased forward, moving out of the security of the hiding spot that would make it relatively safe from machine sensors. Carefully, the hovercraft left the warrens of underground tunnels to emerge to a view of a series of black towers rising in the air like apartment buildings clustered together. If they were scary, evil apartment buildings made of black, twisted demonic metal. Magnifying the screen to a hundred times normal, the crew could make out the thousands upon thousands of distinct pods that comprised each tower. Each pod held a human. Humans wired together into a massive network. All kinds of tubes and wires connected into the still forms of the people who were lying in biothermal goo.

Eon leaned forward to look at the smaller monitors and noticed something disturbing. "Why aren't there any machines in the air?"

The screen magnification changed to give a better perspective of the entire scene. He was right. There wasn't a single machine flying anywhere around any of the towers. There should have been hundreds of them.

On an impulse, Tonks rapidly increased the hovercraft's velocity, shooting forward as fast as she could.

"What are you doing? Are you insane?" Lucius's voice loudly complained.

"Look," she said, targeting the ship's external cameras to pan around the bottom of the Earth's surface. Below them was a group of sentinels, hunter-killer machines sent to find and kill any humans that ventured too near this place, and they were all lying on the ground in a rough V-shape where they had apparently all crashed simultaneously. As they approached the towers, even more machines were seen littering the ground.

"It's like they were all hit by a massive EMP. But what could have caused something like this? It would take a dozen hovercraft firing off their EMPs concurrently to create a wave this expansive," Alastor asked quizzically.

"We should check out the towers. We have to see how this affected all of the imprisoned minds."

* * *

><p><em>00011011 00011011 00011011<em>

* * *

><p>For several seconds, all Harry knew was the blinding white light. Then from the whiteness he began to discern a form. Only after a several confused moments, he realized that the form was himself. Harry looked around, finding himself seemingly floating directionless in nothing. It was only when he thought of his feet as "down" and his head as "up" that things suddenly settled and there was a "floor" of whiteness beneath him. Without any goal in mind, other than exploration, Harry began walking. But walking lead to nowhere. Everywhere was the same as here, which was a place Harry began to wonder existed at all. He tried to communicate.<p>

"Hello?"

No answer.

"Am I dead? Is this heaven?" he wondered. "Or maybe hell?"

No answer.

Without anything else to interact with, Harry sat down on the "surface" and started pondering his own form. As Harry looked and examined his skin something unexpected happened. He was able to look deeper. What he saw made him catch his breath, which was the exact moment that he realized that all of this time, he hadn't actually been breathing. What had startled him was the fact that when he looked deeper into himself he hadn't seen tissue or blood or anything else a person who suddenly found themselves with X-Ray vision would have expected. He found code. Symbols wrapped in symbols, tied together as groups of symbols.

That was when it struck him. He wasn't real. He didn't actually exist.

And then the "floor" which actually had never been a floor, which when he realized it, had only been a reference point which the imaginary him had invented in reference to his non-existent feet, and that non-floor gave way. Harry was falling away, deeper and further into what he did not know nor could he comprehend. He tried to scream but it came out as a distorted gurgle of sound that fragmented and splintered into a digital echo.

And then Harry found himself thinking again. Aware again. He felt pain and soreness everywhere. It was painful, but the boy managed to open his eyes. What Harry saw was frightening. His entire face was covered by some kind of mask. When he pulled it away enough so that his eyes were not covered, he felt some kind of warm goop on him. And then he felt something sharp at the back of his head. He struggled to reach back and felt a sharp metal spike cut his hands. The spike was halfway extended and Harry struggled to move his lethargic body away from it, all the while trying to get to his feet.

Getting to his feet was difficult for many reasons. First off, his body didn't want to work. His limbs merely flopped around. Second, there was a plastic-like covering over the pink goo he was in, the goo that was really the only thing supporting his weight. His arms really didn't have the strength to break through that covering. Third, there was a series of wires and cords connected to his shoulders, back and head that further restricted his movement. It was this third reason that most alarmed Harry. He felt horrified by this, violated. It was like a really bad nightmare, only this nightmare felt more real than his waking life. Terribly much more real.

And then a bright light shone down on him and he had to shield his sensitive eyes from the burning feeling. Harry felt a presence near him. Physically near him in such a way that now it seemed nothing ever had been. And then he felt the various cords and rods around him being severed and most disturbingly, a long tube being pulled out of his mouth that was so long that he gagged twice as it was being brought up. He heard a voice, a voice that sounded oddly familiar, but he couldn't make out what it was saying. The voice sounded concerned, but he could tell it was trying to be… reassuring. And then something was lifting him up. The shock of it all was just too much, and Harry, mercifully, lost consciousness.

* * *

><p><em>00011100 00011100 00011100<em>

* * *

><p>Harry slowly returned to consciousness once more. It wasn't the first time that had happened over the past… he didn't know how long… but it was the first time he did so that he didn't immediately feel drowsy and fall back asleep. He remembered voices talking around him and to him sometimes during that period. And he remembered waking up to the feeling of sharp stings of electricity and the muscles on his body contracting before a warm, calm feeling suddenly overcame him and he was back asleep again. Now, though, that warm calm feeling that always proceeded a trip back to the sweet oblivion of sleep wasn't coming and he felt that he could finally think clearly. He wasn't sure if this was good or bad.<p>

"Harry."

Harry sat up. His sides hurt from the motion, but despite this, he felt stronger than he had while lying in that strange tub of goo. That tub of goo that had felt so terribly, terribly real.

"Harry, how are you feeling?"

"Pretty awful, thanks," Harry tried to say with a cheeky tone, but his voice was hoarse and it came off rather pathetic rather than smart-mouthed. "What's wrong with my voice?"

"You've never used your real voice before, Harry. Your eyes will sting and your whole body will ache for a few days," the voice was saying. He recognized it. It wasn't exactly the same, but it sounded like Tonks.

She looked different. Her face was a bit plainer, but still pretty. With a blush he realized one major difference was that her chest size was about a cup size smaller than he remembered from their previous encounters. But it was her hair that was the most telling. Her hair was plain, unadorned brown. It didn't shift colors.

"Where am I?"

"Good question. You are on my ship, the _Lupin_, and currently we are about a day away from our base. But, unfortunately, that really doesn't tell you very much. The really important questions will have to wait until you are physically ready to handle the answers."

Harry knew this person. Without thinking he tried to surge to his feet to kill him, strangle him. Sirius Black. The mass murderer. He had to die!

Fortunately, though, Harry Potter was far from being in a state where he could actually cause any harm to anyone. Even if he had been able to actually wrap his hands around Sirius's neck he wouldn't have had the strength to squeeze the life out of him. As it was, Tonks merely pushed him back on his bed with one arm.

"Heh, we're really going to have to undo that 'kill Sirius Black on sight' brainwashing they have on him," she laughed. "Or maybe we should keep it? It would sure make for fun, wondering when he'll snap and try and kill you again."

Harry froze, mortified. "I… I'm sorry. I don't know why I…"

"Relax. We know you've been programmed to kill me. Half the population of London has, and I'm pretty sure everyone at that school of yours was as well," Sirius said with a grin. "I'm just that popular. Apparently, old Albus Dumbledore thinks he hasn't a chance with the ladies as long as I'm around."

"I tried to kill him with a butter knife just a few weeks ago," another familiar voice said.

"John!" Harry enthused, sitting up further. "I wasn't dreaming it! You really are alive!"

"Call me Eon, Harry. 'John Anderson' is just a fictional character in fantasy story."

Harry looked at the three of them with a million questions on his mind. The first one that made it out of his mouth was about something he was confused about. He turned to Sirius. "But… I thought I did kill you. I hit you with the Killing Curse. What really happened?"

"Ah, good question," Sirius said with a chuckle. "You did try to kill me, and your 'killing curse' did 'kill' the version of me that you saw. But the real me, the one you see now, all it did to me was put me into a coma." At Harry's stunned and guilty look, Sirius gave a wry smile. "Oh, I forgive you. But we are definitely going to have you deprogrammed before you get strong enough to try and kill me with dull silverware like your friend over there."

"So…"

"Not yet, Harry," John… or Eon, rather, answered. "You need to build up your strength first. It's really important that you're healthy before we show you too much. I know you want to know everything, and you don't want to wait, but trust me."

"Then, what now?"

"Sleep some more, Harry. This time without sedatives. When you wake up we'll feed you some real food, let your body get used to the digestive process. And we'll start some simple exercises to build your body back up," Tonks answered.

It didn't really make sense to Harry. He'd never really been all that physically fit before, but how had his body gotten so terribly out of shape like this? Where had he been before J—Eon and Tonks had found him? What the bloody hell was going on?

But he did feel tired. Sleep came again, and this time he could tell the difference between sleeping and waking.

* * *

><p><em>00011101 00011101 00011101<em>

* * *

><p>"Do you feel up to getting some answers now, Harry?" came Tonks's kind voice.<p>

Nodding, Harry put the weights he was working out with away. They were not very heavy weights, just a few kilograms each, but the process of exercise invigorated him. It had been just three days since they had arrived at _New__Salem_, but Harry already felt much healthier. He had been blindfolded when leaving the ship, for security reasons they had said, but he was promised that once everything had been explained to him he would be free. Here he had been restricted to special quarters and always accompanied by either Tonks or Eon when going to eat or to exercise.

Tonks led him to a room where Sirius, Eon, and several others were all standing together. "First," Sirius said speaking up, "let's introduce you to the rest of the crew that took part in the first phase of freeing you." One by one, Sirius indicated the people in the room. "Of course you already know Tonks and Eon. Tonks is the ship navigator and a mission specialist. You may also recognize Remus, my second in command and the ship's primary operator," the man dressed in plain gray clothes raised his hands. "The one with the patch over his eye and the metal leg is Alastor, our tactical officer." Alastor stomped the cane he was carrying on the floor with a loud thump. "Our resident pretty boy with the long white hair is Lucius. He is our second shift operator and a programmer." The man shot Sirius a disgruntled look but then gave Harry curt nod, though there was a look of disdain on his face when he did so. "And finally, Shaq, gunner, programmer, and chief security officer." The rather tall man gave a salute.

"Now that that's out of the way, I guess there's no better way to do this than to show you," Sirius said. "If you want to understand what's going on, really comprehend it, then sit down on that chair there."

Harry looked to where Sirius was pointing. There was a chair with a very, large mechanical device on it and a large needle right behind it that looked very scary. Harry felt behind his head to feel a metal circle at the base of his neck. It was strange feeling that there. It didn't feel like part of him. He was frightened of the idea of some metal needle being put into the back of his head.

"Um, is it alright if you just… you know… tell me?" Harry asked.

Lucius snorted.

"We could tell you, Harry, but you wouldn't really believe it. Not how it really counts," Tonks said. "I can tell you that your whole life has been a dream. Or a nightmare. Depending on how you want to look at it. But unless we show you how what I'm saying is not just possible but is the truth, your rational mind will reject what I'm saying. You might say you believe us, but on your most basic level you will never really believe it, and that will hold you back. You will never be completely free. So it's best if you endure this. Then, if you don't want to do it again, you never have to."

Tonks was speaking to him earnestly and calmly, and Harry felt her reassurance. Feeling like he had been a coward, Harry hopped up on the chair. "Okay. Let's do this then."

Harry felt something sliding into the back of his head. He anticipated pain, and so at first he felt something excruciating, but then it was gone and there was only whiteness. A moment later, and he once again saw himself. For just a second he was alone. Then, a familiar form appeared in front of him.

Tonks was as he remembered her from Hogsmeade. Her face was brighter. Her… cleavage… was larger. And her hair was changing from one color to another.

"Okay, first things first, we're going to remove the behavior program. You're going to feel something messing in your head. Don't worry, though, it's to get rid of something nasty."

No sooner was she done speaking than he felt an odd sensation, like a wobble in his senses. Then it was gone. He felt… right. Like something that shouldn't have been there, something he wasn't aware of, was now gone. He was himself.

"Better?"

"Yes, actually. So… what is this place?"

"We call it the Construct. It's a virtual mindscape that allows our minds to interact with the computer. Right now your mind is in a receive-only state, which means that you cannot give commands to the construct program. Which is why everything around us appears black. Or white, depending on how you visualize a void."

"Then why do I see bright orange?"

"You see orange?" Tonks said in disbelief.

"No, it's white; I was just messing with you."

Tonks's hair turned a bright pink, then flashed to an angry red, but her lips were turned upwards in a bright smile. "So, you think you're quite the joker do you?" Then her expression turned serious. "I'm glad you still have your sense of humor, Harry, but this is really no joke. Take a look."

Beneath the whiteness suddenly appeared a city. London. The ground quickly rose up to meet them, and Harry was suddenly afraid to move.

"We're inside a computer program, Harry. Just like the program you've been living in all the years of your life. Everything you know, everything you believe to be real, has been a series of input to your brain."

Harry staggered under the revelation. Seeing his senses being fooled right before his eyes, he had no way to deny her words. Tonks walked up to a car, touched it, and it dissolved into a series of pixilated dots that then flew away into the air.

"How can this be possible? It isn't real. It can't be true," Harry tried to deny verbally, but his heart wasn't in his words.

"Real?" Tonks challenged. "How do we know what real is? When we dream we might believe the dream to be real. Everything we know comes to us as sound, light, touch, smell, and taste. These are all signals sent to our brains. Electrical impulses. How different is it from the symbols and codes of a computer, really?"

With a swipe of her hand, London disappeared and a landscape of destruction appeared in its place. Across the landscape of the ruined world were dotted towers. Towers where people were being held. The images shifted so Harry could see it all up close. "The world you know is an interactive collection of minds. Enslaved minds. They're held together in a network of programming that simulates the life you knew. All to keep you docile, and oblivious."

There was a sudden waver. The world shuddered and then everything went black. Harry felt the release of the metal needle that had been placed in his head. He was back in the room with the crew of the _Lupin_. Back in reality. It seemed… abrupt.

"What's going on?" he heard Tonks ask. Apparently, that wasn't the way the demonstration was supposed to end.

"There was an instability in the Construct program. We got some kind of strange feedback from Harry's device and the whole program started to shut down on us," Sirius said with a frown.

"What? How's that possible? The Construct program has the most safety features of any program," Remus was protesting. "There hasn't been a problem like this reported. Ever."

"I don't know," Sirius answered. "Harry, how are you feeling? Are you okay?"

Harry nodded. "Sirius. Sirius Black," he said to himself. Then he looked up with a half-hearted smile. "Well, no sudden desire to murder you. I guess I'm deprogrammed now?"

The group turned to look at him in mild surprise.

"You're taking this rather well," Eon said. "When they told me, and showed me, I nearly puked. It took an hour for me to be process it all. Are you really okay with this?"

Harry frowned. "Maybe it just hasn't hit me. You know, all the time I was with the Dursleys and all the time I wasn't at Hogwarts everything felt, you know, wrong. As if it was all just a dream. Now I know why." Suddenly, Harry's eyes widened. His body tensed.

Suddenly, Harry didn't feel quite so well adjusted. "What about Hogwarts, John," he said, reverting back to calling Eon by his old, Hogwarts name. "And Hermione, and Quidditch? What about them? They're not part of the trick too, are they?"

Lucius sneered. "Wake up kid. Time to stop believing in fairy tales. It was all a lie. All that 'special chosen boy' crap was just another way to control you. There is no such thing as magic. It's all a joke that you were weak enough to believe. Now it's time to snap out of it."

"LUCIUS!" Sirius shouted at the platinum blond man, who merely shrugged his shoulders.

"That was a lie, right, John? Hogwarts is real. And magic. I'm still a wizard, right?" Harry shook as he grabbed onto Eon, trying to cling to his identity.

"I'm sorry, Harry. Lucius was rude to talk to you like that, but it's true. There really is no such thing as magic. Hogwarts was all part of their plan to control us."

And Harry's world shattered again. Blackness claimed him and there was no hint of it being some false dream.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Sorry for the long delay. Life was in the way. Over the next few months I should be able to update at least bi-weekly. No promises, but I'll do my best._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please leave a review. I like them. A lot.<strong>_


	8. Chapter 8: Real Life

_**Author's Note:** Thanks to Zealot of Reading for some blunt, but still polite criticism. I have changed the ending of this chapter to fix a poor characterization.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Real Life<strong>

* * *

><p><em>00011110 00011110 000111110<em>

* * *

><p>Harry tasted the sweat pouring down his face as it trickled into his mouth, smelled the scent of fresh earth as his grimy hands pulled apart the soil, felt the moist dirt on his fingers. He dropped a small seed into the hole he had just made with his trowel and enlarged with his bare hands. He had only been at it for an hour and he could already feel the aching of his muscles, tiny shoots of pain where he demanded work of muscles that had been dormant for most of his life.<p>

He had worked hard at the Dursleys, or at least thought he had. Weeding the small garden in the back of #4 Privet Drive, shoveling snow when the winter came, scrubbing and cleaning on all fours. He had learned the value of work and learned to do so tirelessly and without complaint at a very young age. He had had to. But none of that had been real, he was now discovering. He was having to learn the feeling of real for himself all over again.

The life he knew, the life that was the Matrix, was a very good copy. He had felt burns. He had felt the aches of bruises. He had gotten tired. It felt almost the same. But here, in the subterranean greenhouse of New Salem, it was easy to see, hear, smell, feel, and taste the difference.

"Still at it, Harry?" a kindly voice called out to him.

"I'm giving it my best, Pomona," he replied earnestly as he wiped his forehead.

"And doing a fine job, of it. But you were only scheduled for a thirty minute shift. You aren't supposed to be pushing yourself like that, not being yet a full month freed. It takes time to build up stamina and your immune system, my boy."

"I know, but, it feels like I should be able to do more, you know? I hate feeling like I'm a burden on everyone."

Pomona, one of the work supervisors, gave a small chuckle. "Of all the freed minds I have seen coming through here to work, young Harry Potter, you have the least to worry about being a burden. You work hard, do your best, and always show your gratitude. And I hear that from everyone who knows you."

"Well thanks Prof—I mean, Pomona."

Harry caught himself before he had called her "professor", but he was still in the habit of calling those he respected and those who mentored him by that old Hogwarts term. He was still adjusting to life "unplugged" and the differences in culture and attitudes. Adopting the new-Zion vernacular, as the dialect shared among the cities was called, was taking some getting used to, especially as he had not taken it as a "download" the way many knowledge sets were. As a civilian, his access to uploading was limited, but for essential knowledge like this, he could have been given access. He had turned it down, still wary of the technology from his very first experience.

After he had been cleared by security to join the regular civilian population, he had immediately been given the offer to join the military and receive training to work aboard a hovercraft like Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and Eon (whom he still sometimes thought of as 'John' despite himself). He was encouraged by Remus, however, to take time out and see what life in the human cities was like first. Not everyone freed from the Matrix had to go back into it and fight it, the man had said.

Now Harry was enjoying his life. It wasn't the same as living at Hogwarts and learning about magic. He certainly missed the feeling of being special and being able to command the world around him with a spoken word and the wave of his wand. But there was something about the real world struggle and the communal efforts of New Salem that felt more meaningful than life within the school of magic.

* * *

><p><em>00011111 00011111 00011111<em>

* * *

><p>After thanking Pomona for the chance to work in the greenhouse, he made his way back to his quarters to wash off and change clothes. Walking back to his quarters in New Salem was more like the Halls of Hogwarts than it was the non-magical world of Little Whinging and the suburban hell of the Dursleys. The underground complex with all the twists and turns, corridors and levels that made up the human base felt like the interior of Hogwarts castle, though without the eccentricities of moving staircases or peeping portraits.<p>

Walking along the corridors towards his assigned room, Harry made way for others whenever he ran into someone trying to pass through the same doorway as him or when the passage became too narrow to comfortably walk two abreadst. Despite being careful, however, he still found himself being run into by a boy walking the other way with a pair of larger boys trailing behind him. The boy, probably fifteen, was walking with his head turned to the side talking loudly two the boys following him and walked straight into Harry even as the brown-haired boy was trying to move aside.

"Watch it, Plug-head!" the boy snarled.

"Sorry, but you were the one who walked into me," Harry replied calmly. "You should watch where you are going when you're walking." Harry turned to slip past the older boy.

A second later, the boy was grabbing Harry and pushing him up against the wall. "What did you say to me? A plug-head like you should be grateful to even be alive. I should knock some respect into you."

Wide-eyed, Harry looked at his attacker in shock. He was used to abuse from the Dursleys, but had never experienced in the real world before. A second later, the boy who had been holding him up was being held up in turn by a familiar figure. Tonks had the boy by his collar while Eon and Sirius were standing intimidatingly over the other boys who were shrinking back away.

"You have a problem with 'plug-heads', boy?" Tonks asked menacingly. When he shook his head in fear, she slowly let him down until his feet were touching the floor again. "Without us 'plug-heads' none of you would even exist. If anyone around here should be grateful, it's you."

Finally released, the boy staggered back away. "Look, I didn't mean anything against anyone in the military. I was just saying, you know, people who are freed but then don't join the war, you know..."

"Everyone is free to choose how they are going to live their lives. We need military to free more minds, but we also need farmers, inventors, programmers, and musicians," Sirius responded coldly. "How free would we be if everyone who was awakened from slavery within the Matrix was conscripted to go back in? Think about that, boy."

The three nodded. "Yes, sir," they all responded in turn before filing out of the small corridor, duly chastised.

"Tonks, Eon, Sirius!" Harry beamed at them. "You're back!"

"Are you alright, Harry?" Eon asked his friend.

"Yeah, fine. Thanks for that. Glad you lot all showed up just then."

"Sorry you had to see that, Harry," Sirius said apologetically. "Unfortunately, there are some humans who aren't satisfied with having an entire army of machines out there killing and enslaving us. They have to create divisions among our own kind as well."

"Not much difference among wizarding kind, either," Harry noted. "Depite being a small minority group, there were some who made a big deal about being born from wizard parents and felt they were better than those whose parents weren't magical. I guess it's part of all of us."

"Maybe," Eon replied. "But we still choose whether we will continue that kind of thinking or reject it. Some people just need to be made to see how damaging it is to hold to such divisions. Others," he shook his head, "I think they just need a good ass-kicking."

"At least they respected the military," Harry noted in the boys' defense.

"Hard not to," Tonks said with a snort, "what with all the ships flying in and outta this place and most families having lost at least one person to the Machines, pretty much everyone sees us as heroes. Kinda hard not to respect the ones taking the biggest risks, eh?"

Harry nodded. While not allowed anywhere sensitive like around the entrance or the military compound, he had gotten around the small city and had learned that New Salem was one of several secret human military bases. The main human settlement, Zion, was off-limits to Machine attacks (Neo be praised) and the population of that city was more civilian than military. However, the machines monitored all craft that entered and departed, making it difficult for any ship based there to carry out missions to free the minds still trapped within the Matrix.

Eighty years before, there had been a massive war. Zion had been the only human city and the machines had set out to destroy it. It was through a miracle in which the now near legendary heroes Neo, Morpheus, and Trinity had been instrumental in creating a shaky peace that preserved the human city. As part of the deal, all the humans held in the Matrix had been "freed" and Zion was not destroyed as the Machines had originally intended.

But in a dark twist, the machines had "freed" the humans by releasing them straight into a watery doom which they were not physically able to escape. Even most those whom the Zion ships managed to rescue went insane from the shock of discovering their entire lives had been part of a computer simulation within their own minds. Some managed to come retain their sanity, though, and the population of Zion had swelled to more than double its former size. Yet the machines continued to create new human life within a new Matrix, with these new artificially created humans not subject to the treaty, and the cycle started all over again, which was why the humans needed secret bases from which to launch their rescue efforts. Currently, the status quo was that peace would be maintained as long as humans did not outright attack machines, but any caught hacking the system would be destroyed.

Whether or not the new cities were under the protection of the treaty or not was a bit unclear. As a consequence, secrecy and security at the base was always high, and there were several mobile groups that changed location periodically and whose number fluctuated just in case open war broke out once again.

"So, Harry, now that you've had a chance to see what life is like here, what do you think?" Sirius asked.

"It's mind boggling. It's so different than… you know."

"Yes, and the work we do, freeing minds, is important," Sirius added while Harry nodded in complete agreement. "We could use you, Harry. A spot has opened up on the _Lupin_ and I would love to have you aboard." At Harry's considering look, Sirius began to say more. "There's a reason I sought you and Eon out, you know. You both have great poten—"

"Sirius," interrupted a new voice as Remus walked up from the same direction the rest of the crew had come from. "We agreed it would be best for the boy if he didn't know too much before he made his decision. It would be wrong to guilt him into anything."

"I know, Remus," Sirius turned to his friend and second-in-command to explain himself. "But I can see it in his eyes. He's a fighter and he wants to do as much as he can to help out. He's a good lad."

Sirius looked affectionately on the boy he and the rest of his crew had rescued. Wanting to unlock his potential within the Matrix was certainly one of the reasons he hoped to recruit Harry, but it was more than that. Over the few weeks they had known each other, the hovership captain had come to feel real affection for him. It was as if the boy had been one of his crew for years already, not someone he had just rescued.

Remus felt much the same way, which was why he half hoped Harry would decline a military position. While there were veterans with dozens of years of experience hacking the Matrix for various purposes, there were also many who died young. It was dangerous enough just being part of a crew, it was much more dangerous actually going into the Matrix on a mission. And that was exactly what they wanted Harry for.

"Yes, Harry is a good lad," Remus looked at Harry directly. "And if you choose to be a farmer, an artist, or any other civilian job rather than join the military, you will be just as good in our eyes."

"Thanks Remus," Harry said and then seeing the nods of agreement from the other crew members present turned to each of them, Tonks, Eon... Sirius. I am seriously thinking about joining a crew, but maybe just as an operator or something not requiring a massive needle be jammed into the back of my neck. But can I have a little more time to make a decision?"

"Of course," Sirius said. "Take all the time you want. I'm sure I'll be proud of whatever you decide. We all will."

* * *

><p><em>00100000 00100000 00100000<em>

* * *

><p>Harry's breath came to him in gasps, his hands planted on his hips as he crouched over to catch his breath. He scanned the perimeter. He could see that his friend was in trouble. Two opponents had his partner bottled up, cutting off his escape routes and quickly closing in. Harry felt the touch of another opponent, the one who had been guarding him brush against his waist. Now!<p>

Harry cut across the lane with a sudden burst of quickness. His friend at the top of the key leaned past the oncoming defender and threw the red ball around him. Harry had to push himself to get to the spot to which the ball had been sent. He caught it, the worn rubber nearly slipping from his hands, but Harry managed to corral it. He was too far out towards the wing for him to turn the corner and go to the basket, but he at least he had gotten there to catch the ball. He even and managed to stop on a dime and pivot towards the basket. The defender on him had to rush madly towards him to keep the boy from having a clean look at the goal.

With a jerk of his hand upwards, Harry prepared to shoot, the teen guarding him leaping wildly towards him in an attempt to block his shot. With a smile touching his face, Harry brought the ball back down, completing the pump fake. Eon had told him he had a natural talent for faking movement and making it believable. Harry knew it probably came from the habits he had formed as a Seeker playing Quidditch, trying to throw an opposing team off the trail of the snitch or avoiding taking a bludger had taught him to disguise his motions well. And now the instincts served him in a very different sport. As soon as the opposing player jumped past him, he would be free to pass the ball to a teammate who should be wide open under the basket.

Before he had a chance to do so however, Harry felt a sharp blow as the knee of his opponent, completely faked out, slammed into his chest. Harry felt himself being knocked from his feet, his feint having worked too well. As he fell backwards, Harry realized he still had the ball. With all his might he hurled the ball away from him up and towards the basket shot-put style, hoping it would reach his teammate and they could score and wave off the foul. Then he felt the impact of the hard concrete on his back and elbows before his head jerked back and made contact with the hard surface as well.

"Whoah!" came a chorus of shouts and cheers from around the basketball court.

Then Harry felt the teen who had knocked him flat helping him up to his feet. "Hey, man, Harry, you okay?"

Harry could hear the concern in the boy's voice. With a bit of effort he pulled himself off the ground and nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay. No harm done, though I think I may have torn my trousers a bit."

And his elbows. He could feel where the rough stone had skinned his arm. That was going to be sore for a while.

The other boys were coming up and he heard one of them comment loudly. "I can't believe you hit that shot, man! That was magic!"

Harry looked at them all in alarm. "I didn't mean, too, honest. It was a total accident," he protested.

There was laughter all around. "We know, dude. That was a total lucky shot, but it was sweet! Game over."

They clapped him on the back and helped get over to the showers to clean off.

It had now been over a month since he had first been freed and brought to New Salem. Harry was still getting used to life in the real world. He couldn't help compare life among humans hiding from the Machines and back in the magical world of Hogwarts. From time to time he felt a bout of paranoia about keeping his magic in control in Muggle areas. And then he'd ruefully realize that everyone, including himself, was a Muggle and there wasn't any magic at all. It had been an elaborate lie, and an insidious one.

Drying off and inspecting the new tears in his sweatpants, he grimaced to himself. Back at Hogwarts there had been a charm that could have fixed the new rend in his clothing. Now he'd have to live with the tears, at least until he outgrew his current clothes and needed something new. Clothing was something of a scarcity in the human cities, most agricultural production being reserved for food to feed the growing populations of Zion and the human settlements.

* * *

><p><em>00100001 00100001 00100001<em>

* * *

><p>Harry exited the recreational areas of the New Salem Community Center, thinking with a chuckle to himself how the way everything was spelled "American" was probably going to be his most difficult adjustment to real life. Thanks to the muscle rebuilding technologies he had received upon his rescue, he was already about as physically fit as he had thought he had been back in "Magical Britain," though he still could only exercise strenuously for a couple of hours before he needed to call it a day. Wizarding life had not actually been physically demanding, after all. Socially, he found he fit in quite well, making friends his age seemed easy. At least, among most of the population.<p>

A crowd was gathered at the steps of the community center. Harry heard loud cries, some apparently in support of something, others apparently decrying it. With an uneasy feeling, Harry hurried over towards the gathering. At the center of it all was one of the crew who had been responsible for his rescue. The only one from the _Lupin_ that Harry couldn't bring himself to like.

As Harry joined the crowd he heard what was being said, "…It is time that we stop wasting valuable resources on bringing even more of these half-people half-Machines into our communities, risking all of our lives with the end result of lowering the standard of living for all _natural born _people."

There was a loud shout of assent from the crowd, but a murmur from the side.

Lucius stood there, his hand spread wide apart, his long white hair trimmed neatly to the side. He looked a lot cleaner and better groomed than what Harry remembered of the man while aboard the _Lupin_. He wore a long full-length robe, a scholar's outfit, though to Harry it looked almost like a wizard's outfit. Except that it was black instead of the odd colors wizards had tended to wear around magical areas. And just like them, Lucius was clearly grandstanding.

"I say we close down this dangerous and costly operation and concentrate on what really matters most: our families here and in the other human cities. Why continue to not only endanger our brave military heroes," Lucius paused momentarily, allowing Harry and the rest of the gathered crowd to see the service pin on the man's breast denoting that he was himself a military veteran, "but the entire civilization we have been rebuilding? Why risk exposing our cities to discovery by the Machines, or even sabotage from within by the very ones we risk ourselves to save? I say let the Machines keep their programmed pets! And let us use those resources to make life here as best as it can be!"

Many within the crowd cheered loudly at this. There was a call for Lucius to be elected to the Ruling Council, which was quickly seconded by another. Harry saw a predatory smile touch the platinum blond man's face briefly before it was instantly replaced by a warmer, more artificial smile. A politician's smile.

He remembered that smile.

"_Lucius, hold up a minute, please!" Harry called after the one man from the Lupin he had not yet had a chance to thank individually. Lucius paused, but did not turn around. Harry dashed over to catch up to him._

"_What is it, Potter? I am a busy man and I don't have time on my recharge breaks to answer any silly questions or take care of orphans."_

_Harry was taken aback by the cold, brusque tone. But nonetheless, he wanted to at least express his gratitude. "Of course, I understand. I just wanted to thank you for what you did, rescuing me and all." Harry stuck out his hand._

_Lucius looked at the hand as if it were diseased. Then he turned to fully face Harry, pulling himself up to his full height so that he could look down on the younger boy._

_"Listen here, Potter, I could care less about your gratitude. Because of you, we were nearly discovered by a patrol of Sentinels. If it had been up to me, we would have left you plugged into that machine so that you could keep on playing make-believe in that imaginary world you are so fond of discussing with everyone. But despite my protests, we went into a restricted area and brought you back to our homes, another beggar mouth to feed and clothe." _

_Lucius's voice was cruel and hard, and Harry could feel that the man enjoyed watching him stand there in shock. "Save your thanks for those fools who actually care if you live or die. Now get out of my…" Lucius caught himself as several people from different ships rounded the corner and began walking past._

"_Will that be all…Harry?" the pale, blond haired man asked with a honeyed voice. A fake smile was plastered over his face._

That same small was on display now. Harry's stomach turned at the thought that the crowd was being taken in by it.

"Is that your plan then, Lucius? Let the rest of humanity remain slaves to the Machines while we live it up in our walled cities?" a voice boomed loudly from the crowd. People parted for a tall man to walk through. Harry grinned seeing who it was.

"Kingsley," Lucius said cheerfully with a smile on his lips, but his eyes showed absolute coldness within them. "How wonderful that you could…grace us with your voice today."

Harry almost flinched at Lucius's use of Shaq's name from his time within the Matrix. Among those freed, it was among the worst of insults for a person to knowingly use their Machine-given name instead of the one they chose for themselves. It was one thing for those who knew each other from within the Matrix to slip up. It was entirely another matter for someone to do so intentionally.

Shaq's nostrils flared, but not in anger. It was a snort of contempt.

"Is that the kind of leadership you are offering these people in return for their vote to put you on the Council? Low blows?"

"Oh, I've offended you, my apologies. Please, feel free to use my slave name in return if it will make you feel better."

It was a cheap, underhanded attack. Harry was bristling from hearing the insult, and it hadn't even been aimed at him. Lucius was natural born in the city, never having been plugged into the Matrix. He didn't have a name given to him by the machines, and Lucius was pointing this out. Harry started to push to the front of the crowd. Fortunately, it was a relatively small gathering and he was still small enough to fit through the spaces between people.

When Harry made it to the front, however, he saw that Shaq had remained calm. Only then did Harry realize that getting Shaq wound up was what Lucius was trying for. But the man who had once been a young boy named Kingsley Shacklebolt hadn't taken the bait. Instead he stood there a freed man, his presence making a sharp contrast with Lucius.

Shaq was tall, taller than Lucius by almost a head. His skin was dark, a rich brown that matched the simple earth-toned trousers and shirt he wore, making him look very much like the typical working men in the city rather than some heroic figure. There was no special veteran's pin on his shirt, though Shaq had earned the right to wear it through a decade longer service than the blond had. Unlike Lucius's perfectly smooth skin, there were scars on Shaq's where electrical plugs had been removed. The hair around the area around the back of his head was trimmed short, almost so that there was no hair there at all, so that the hole in the back of his head would remain unobstructed for jacking into the network.

"Oh, you've offended me, Lucius, but not because of something as silly as a name," the bigger man answered, loud enough for the entire crowd to hear. "You have offended me by disgracing the military and by disgracing the ship we crewed aboard together with your talk of abandoning our values."

Lucius chuckled. "Oh, my friend, I think you misunderstand. I have nothing but deep respect for all the men of the military who have sacrificed their lives to help us to achieve what we have. But what were they sacrificing for if we don't make the most of what we have? It is time to move beyond the past, move beyond our slavish existence and make our own path! But we cannot do so while laden down with the burden of an unnecessary cold war with the Machines!

"Do you know, that over 60% of the energy produced in our cities goes towards the effort of hacking into the Matrix and sending ships out into danger? 60%!" Lucius half turned from Shaq back to the crowd. "How much better would all of our lives be if that effort and energy were spent providing for those here, in this city, who need it? What are we doing freeing more people if all we are going to do is have them barely subsist?

"The more people who are freed, the greater the problem is. That, ladies and gentlemen, is the sad truth. We have problems with plumbing, power, overcrowding. Yet all of our time and effort goes into freeing more and more people which will only make matters worse!"

Here, Lucius stopped then turned back to the crowd. "And the sad fact is, that as much as I would personally like to see every last soul freed from the Matrix, that each time they bring someone back, they bring back risk to every man, woman, and child in this city."

Murmurs of approval for Lucius's words rippled through the crowd. He was hitting on a point of shared worry. Playing to their fears.

"What danger are you talking about, Lucius?" Shaq countered. "The threat of the Machines finding our cities? You and I both know that whether or not we are actively hacking into the Matrix has no effect on whether or not the Machines will come after us. The fate of New California and the fact that New Tokyo was discovered by the Machines yet left alone proves that. So what danger are you talking about?"

Lucius shot Shaq a dark look. He had been forced away from generalizations an into specifics. Where the crowd would be divided. "I'm talking about the drones. I'm talking about the Cypherites. Have you forgotten what they did to our people?"

The crowd suddenly became restless.

Harry had heard about the "drones" and the Cypherites while he was being checked out for implanted programming, like the one to kill Sirius Black. The first "drone" had attacked before the battle at Zion. One of the Matrix hackers of that time, Bane, had been caught by a rogue Agent program and his mind overwritten, becoming a program with a human body, what they were now calling a drone. It had been responsible for almost single-handedly destroying the human fleet of hovercraft through use of an EMP at just the wrong time.

The Cypherites, on the other hand, were human terrorists. Formerly plugged into the Matrix and then freed, they sought a way to be put back into the program. Mostly, they stole ships and revealed secrets to the machines in the hopes of being let back into the network. They were named after Cypher, who infamously betrayed the legendary Morpheus, Neo, and Trinity.

"So, you mean simply having 'Plug-heads' like me in the city is a danger to us all, is that what you're trying to say, Lucius?"

The pale blond man's patience was clearly running thin. Lucius's veneer of politeness was dissolving as he was forced to backtrack. "Of course not. You have paid your dues, proven your humanity to us by your actions…"

"That's what I thought," Shaq replied as Lucius backed down from the larger man, getting a loud chuckle from the crowd. "You **know** there have only been three confirmed drones in the entire history of our military. They've tried to send us programs but they can't hide it from us, now that we know what to look for."

"And have there only been three Cypherites, Kingsley?" Lucius retorted, going back to the name insult. "No. There has never been a natural born who became a Cypherite. We have been betrayed time and time again, and it is always by their kind," Lucius turned and pointed towards the nearest member of the crowd with plugs in his body, "that have turned on us."

As it was, the nearest person with plugs in his body was Harry Potter.

Now he spoke up. "Excuse me, all due respect and everything, Lucius, but I never turned on you. And I've never wanted to turn back and leave you or anyone else behind. I just got here. I'm going to work hard to help everyone I can. And I **am** grateful for the chance."

"What? Who are you?" Lucius snapped. And then he realized just whom he was talking to and why the boy had said what he had the way he had. The veiled accusation was not lost on him, though the crowd knew nothing of Lucius's previous vote to abandon the boy. Still, the insult angered him. He shot the boy a dark, warning look.

"Ah, Harry, how nice to see you," Lucius said with that false smile of his. "Everyone, this is Harry Potter. Who I should have recognized. He is one of the lucky few whom our military has helped. And while it is a tragedy that there are sadly many more trapped minds where this boy has come from, it still does not change the fact that the cost in man-hours and the continual risk of lives and resources that went into freeing this boy are not the best way forward for our race. The more resources we pour into this effort, the less we all have for ourselves."

Harry frowned up at Lucius. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't agree. There's nothing more important than helping free people from enslavement to the Machines."

Lucius sneered. "And what do you understand of politics, boy? You would split a meal enough to keep one person alive so that two would starve. And yet, here you stand. I no longer believe our military is being used in the best possible way; that is why I resigned my commission. If you believe in freeing others so much, then why aren't you enlisting in the military training program, hmm? You speak brave words, but do you have the deeds to match them?" A pause. "I thought not."

Harry turned and made his way out of the crowd. Just before getting beyond hearing of the podium he turned back, his head held up and defiant. "You're wrong, Lucius. We can't let the rest of humanity remain trapped in the Matrix. That's just wrong."

Harry continued walking away. Shaq hurried after him.

"That was a brave thing you did, there Harry," Shaq said when he caught up to him a few minutes later. "There's a lot of people here who are listening to this talk of abandoning the rest of humanity. And Lucius, for all his faults, is a great speaker."

"Thanks, Shaq. It just made me so mad hearing him talk like nobody else mattered. And when he pointed at me, it made me feel like I was dirty or something."

"Don't let it get to you," Shaq said. "Lucius is the kind of man who thinks he is better than others just because he was born naturally instead of being birthed in the Matrix. He hides it behind fancy rhetoric, but it's just another form of prejudice. It's sad, really."

"What's sad," the cold voice of Lucius Malfoy cut in from behind, "is that the rabble out there actually take your words as seriously as they do mine. You cost me a lot of support with that little speech of yours, Potter."

"Oh, it's you," Harry said with a frown.

Lucius approached and literally looked down on Harry. "Here you are standing free because of _my_ efforts on your behalf, and what do you do? You stood there disrespectfully to argue with me in public. Where are your manners, boy? You should know to keep quiet in the presence of your betters.

"Do you see this pin, boy?" Lucius snapped, now physically pointing to the emblem pinned to his clothing. "It means that I am a veteran of the military. I _risked_ my life to rescue ingrates like you. And what is your great claim to fame, I wonder? Peeling potatoes with Ponoma? Polishing someone's boots? Hmm?" The sneer on Lucius's face turned into a snarl. "How dare you talk back to me when you haven't even the guts to go out there and put your life on the line. And you are even supposed to be some sort of 'potential' whiz at hacking the system. Pish. You're just a spoiled brat who cares nothing for anyone but himself. I'm worth a thousand of you, brat, and don't you ever forget it!"

Shaq glared at Lucius. "Do you really think you are more important than Harry, Lucius? Do you really believe that?" Shaq asked. Shaq had never liked the blond haired man's attitude. He found Harry's apparent talent for getting under the man's skin amusing.

Lucius sneered. "Potter? Of course I am more important than this little freeloading rat! I was born a human. My parents were born human. My grandparents were even born human! And this little brat was rescued not more than two months ago. Look at him, he's still full of sockets so that they could plug him right back in and let him go on about his fantasy life. Just a little while ago and he was like the rest of those pathetic masses of idiots staring emptily into nothing while the Machines suck the heat from their bodies."

Shaq bristled. He was one of the freed. It rankled that this man who couldn't understand what it was like to realize you had been a mental slave all your life would insult those who did. Of course, Lucius saved this most venomous rhetoric for outside the public eye. Many of those in the crowd had plugs in them, or the scars from where all but the one on their head had been removed. Of those that were born naturally, almost all had one or both parents who had been plugged in at some point in time.

"What about your great grandparents, you jerk! Where do you think they came from?" Harry shot back. Harry's face burned in anger from Lucius's insults, but he looked at Shaq standing there calmly and pushed the emotion away. He took a step forward towards the man, looked up at him and then said, "You know what? You're right, Lucius."

Lucius looked on with a sneer.

"You went out there as part of a crew, together with Shaq here, and because of that crew, here I am now. Free. No longer a slave to whatever the Machines want me to see. I say I'm grateful to you, but what good are words if my actions don't match? What kind of a coward would I be if I didn't go back and help as many people as I can? Especially my own friends still stuck inside…I know I have to go back and help them.

"Sure, I know we'll have to solve some problems about space and supplies, but in the end, it's the only right thing to do. So, thank you for your words. You've convinced me to stop delaying and join the military right away. There's nothing more important than helping free people from enslavement to the Machines."

Harry started walking away, but then stopped suddenly and turned back. "Say, Lucius, do you happen to have a son? Maybe attending a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry over in Scotland somewhere?"

Completely taken aback by the question, Lucius could only spit out, "Of course not, Potter, don't be ridiculous!"

"Alright. But you know, while I was still 'plugged in' back at Hogwarts, I knew a boy there named Draco. Looked just like you, as if he could have been your son. Pale skin. Blond hair that looks like it's been fussed over for hours. Funny thing is, he hates Muggles. That's people who can't do magic like people at the school. And he doesn't even realize that there's no such thing as magic."

"Ridiculous. What do I care about an idiot boy who believes the lies of the Machines?"

"That's just it. When he talks about 'Muggles' saying how much better he is than them because his father is a wizard and his grandfather was a wizard, it sounded just like you. I could have sworn you were related. But honestly, if he wants to be as big of a prat as you, he's got a lot of catching up to do."

And with that, Harry turned his back on Lucius and began walking purposefully for the military administration building. Shaq just looked at Lucius with a wry grin. "Damn, Lucius. The kid just put you in your place."


	9. Chapter 9: Training

**Chapter 9: Training Programs**

* * *

><p><em>00100010 00100010 00100010<em>

* * *

><p>Harry leaned back on the bench, trying hard not to think about the giant metal needle that was about to be rammed into the back of his head. He looked around at his friends who had come to support him. He wanted to look brave for them.<p>

"Relax, Harry. It's not going to hurt. You'll feel just a bit uncomfortable, but it will be over in a few moments," Remus assured him.

Obviously, he was doing a bad job looking brave.

"This is a piece of cake, Harry. You're not even going into the Construct this time. This is just a straight upload into your memory. You'll stay aware of the real world the whole time. And the knowledge you're going to get, well, it will be well worth any discomfort."

Harry nodded at Eon's remarks. He was about to get years of training all in one go without having to put in the practice or crack the cover of a single book. And John Anderson had gone through that when becoming Eon.

"And you're all sure this is safe? I won't come out of this barking?"

"It's all perfectly safe," Tonks began, "Well, unless we were to upload to the wrong section of the brain or something. Then ya might talk with a high pitched voice for a few months or see everything in shades 'a pink until we can figure out what went wrong."

"Cut it out, Tonks. Or do you want me to tell Eon and Harry here what your name was while you were still plugged in?" Remus threatened.

"You wouldn't," Tonks protested.

"Honestly, Harry, this is completely safe. It's old technology, from before there even ever was a Matrix," Remus explained.

"Before there was a Matrix? But, didn't the Machines create this in order to create the Matrix?"

Remus nodded. "We thought so too, at first. But since then we've discovered that all the technology designed to put a human into a machine environment was created by us. We're still not sure how long ago, but back then humans were at the peak of technological development. Along with robots and Artificial Intelligence, we were pioneering the field of Virtual Reality, or VR."

"Harry, we could stand here all day and answer your questions one by one," Tonks suddenly inserted the connection needed into the back of Harry's head and hit a button. "Or I could just do this and answer them all at once."

For a second, Harry felt a wave of dizziness and nausea as the sudden influx of information filled his mind. Then it was over and Harry suddenly blinked. He knew. He knew all kinds of things about the Matrix, the history of the war with the Machines. The rise of the AI, the fall of humanity, and people being reduced to slaves whose lives powered their captors. Harry spent a moment processing it all, then looked up at those standing around him. Now he knew exactly what they were fighting for.

"Incredible. I understand, now," Harry said gasping. There was a brief pause. "More please."

"Oh, after seconds, huh?" Tonks said with a grin and started a second upload.

* * *

><p><em>00100011 00100011 00100011<em>

* * *

><p>Eon and Tonks were the only ones left in the control room where Harry was being trained, the two taking turns at the computer console while Harry absorbed years of teaching and information in a matter of hours. After Harry had gotten comfortable with the process of uploading, the others filed out to take care of personal matters. It had been eight hours and Harry hadn't even stopped to eat.<p>

Sirius walked into the room just as another download completed. Harry sat up, looked the hovercraft captain in the eye, and pronounced, "I'm a hacker!"

"Are you now?" Sirius smiled at him challengingly. "Show me."

Eagerly, Harry transferred over to a different machine. He was strapped into the cushioned pallet as Tonks prepared to load him and Sirius up. "Are you sure he's ready, boss?" Tonks asked.

"Only one way to find out!" Sirius replied. "Send us in!"

The void of whiteness claimed Harry's consciousness before he could utter his worry after hearing Tonk's doubt. And then he found himself standing in a darkened alleyway next to a pay phone. Harry looked around, getting his bearings. He was on a side street in what looked like it had to be Muggle New York. Harry made a mental note to stop thinking of places as being "Muggle" or not. That was silly.

The alleyway was poorly lit, dingy, and littered with old newspapers. A moment later, Sirius appeared just beside him.

"What are we doing here, sir?" Harry asked, looking around in concern.

"It's a training exercise, kid. Nothing beats experience."

"I thought that downloading thing was doing pretty well..."

Sirius laughed. "True. It's certainly much easier to simply upload facts. But you can't get the _feelings_ as you would by living it. Trust me, it's better this way."

Harry nodded. "Right, like being shown what the…You-Know-What…is. Being told is one thing, even if you believe it, you don't really understand until you experience it."

"Exactly. Now we're going to drop off updated clearance codes for some of our contacts in the Machine world."

Harry was aware of the existence of plugged-in humans within the Matrix that helped to wage a guerrilla information war against the Machines. These brave volunteers requested to remain plugged in to help the human resistance from the inside. There were protocols for hackers entering the system to use to get in contact with human agents as well as protocols for them to leave messages and reports for humans on the outside. These agents were always in danger of discovery and death.

Sirius and Harry exited the alleys onto a very busy sidewalk area. Men and women in clean, crisp business suits hurried by, seemingly oblivious to anyone and everyone around them. Harry, now accustomed to the perpetual dimness of living in subterranean quarters, immediately noticed how bright and orderly the world was. There was a perpetual "newness" to everything that he had not noticed before being unplugged. Sure, there were older, worn out cars and bits of trash on the streets, but coming from the real world Harry could see the order and planning behind it all.

As they walked through the crowded streets, pushing through the people on their way to do whatever it was they were doing, questions filled Harry's mind. "So, Captain," Harry felt odd using Sirius's rank instead of his name, but the protocol which had been uploaded to his mind dictated he do so while in the Matrix, "why is it that we have to avoid saying certain words and names while others are fine. Like, why is it I can call Eon by his name here but not inside a wizard area? And why do I have to call you 'Captain' or 'Black' instead of your normal name?"

"Why do you think we have to avoid those words at all, Harry?"

"Because they are listening for words and names to alert them. But that's what I don't get. If they can monitor what we say, why don't they know that we're here and where we are already?"

Sirius chuckled, "You are asking the right kinds of questions, Harry, that's good. Shows you have an analytical mind, which is important for what we do. To answer your question, Harry, I want you to think about just how vast and complex the 'world' we are in is. Everything you see, hear, smell, taste, or feel here is an impulse being sent to your mind. It all has to be compatible with the last bit of information your mind received, compatible with your beliefs and expectations of what should be. And then think of all the thousands upon thousands of minds observing the same thing but from different angles, with different ranges of perception and states of mind."

Harry looked around him. It was truly amazing how complex the simulation was. Light and relfections, the shadows of objects being cast from multiple light sources. The sounds of footfalls. The pressure of a person pushing past him. Then he considered the mass of people all walking around him. Each of them would need a different input about what they were experiencing that would be dissimilar from his own perspective. It was so incredibly complex Harry exhaled a breath of appreciation.

Seeing that Harry was comprehending the complexity, Sirius continued his explanation. "Even just all the things being said and heard within this world is so complex that it is simply too much to process. Machines have a hard enough time creating the events perceived by people in real-time. Monitoring and analyzing all of it in real time is well beyond their processor power, which contrary to belief is most certainly finite. And they can't record it all for later. They do maintain a memory buffer which is constantly being analyzed, but only selections of it are ever really looked at in depth."

"So they use key words and focus on specific individuals at specific times in order to prioritize what they are going to analyze," Harry concluded.

"Exactly. Names like 'Harry' or 'Thomas' are so common that flagging them would be inefficient, as are words like 'eon', 'computer', and 'wizard'. However some proper nouns, such as the name of a school, or that of a dashing hacker/captain, are said less frequently and are more likely to be said in a context the machines would be interested in analyzing."

"Right! And here the word 'eon' is said commonly enough, but in a wizard area it is far less common, so it can be flagged there. And the name of the school of wizards is uncommon here, but in the wizard world it is a common term and so would not be tracked."

Sirius smiled at the new recruit fondly. "Excellent reasoning, Harry. You'll do well." Sirius turned off the main street into a more residential area. "We're here. Follow me up the stairs and be careful. Keep your eyes open to what's around you."

Sirius turned to enter an apartment complex they had reached and Harry followed behind. They walked up several flights of stairs, Harry noted the look of wear and disrepair in the corridor. He wondered if it would look exactly the same in five years or if the machines would have it renovated every few years or so. The pair came to a stop in front of a plain door.

"This is our contact. If you would do the honors, Harry?"

Harry knocked on the door in the pre-specified pattern the training program had given him. A moment later the door opened and a young woman with her hair in dreadlocks came to answer. Her face was dirty and she had a look of impatience on her face.

"Yeah? Whadya want?" she asked in an uninterested and unwelcoming tone.

Harry gave the phrase to identify himself as a hacker. "I heard you were someone to see if I wanted to meet some local underground music talent,"

The girl folded her arms and glared. "Do I look like a record label to you?" she asked sarcastically.

"No, but you look like someone who can appreciate the sounds of the _Nebuchadnezzar_," he responded, giving the ship's name as the key phrase in response to the challenge.

The girl's scowling look melted away and a smile replaced it. "Guess you alright, 'den. Come on in. My place ain't much but make ye'self comf'tible."

Harry walked in and headed towards the middle of the room. The girl was right, her place was a bit of mess, but it was no worse than the conditions in New Salem. That was when Harry realized that Sirius had not followed him in. He turned from the girl to look back at Sirius who had an unreadable expression on his face.

"What is it, Sirius?"

"Look," the man said gesturing back inside the room.

Harry turned back to look at the room. His eyes widened as he saw the barrel of a gun being pointed straight between his eyes. The underground contact he had been talking to was gone and in her place was a man wearing a plain black suit and white shirt. Just like the men he had seen attack Sirius's safe house after he had left it back in Little Whinging. An Agent.

The shock went through Harry's heart and he felt an icy fear. The entire scene began to shudder and it looked as though time was slowing down.

"Freeze program," he heard Sirius say as the shuddering of the room increased.

A moment later, the room returned to normal, except that everything was frozen in place. The agent stood there motionless holding the gun, his finger on the trigger. Harry bent over gasping in emotional distress. Sirius was by his side in a moment, his arms going around the shocked teenager. "Harry, are you alright?" Without waiting for a reply, Sirius looked up and ordered, "End the program. Something's wrong with Harry."

And then Harry felt himself coming to his senses, the brief flash of the void between the real world and the computer world fading away as the needle in the back of his head was pulled out. He looked up, slightly dizzy from the experience. Tonks and Eon were there with looks of concern on their faces.

"What the hell was that?" Sirius demanded angrily, walking over after being released from his own restraints. "The program destabilized while we were inside! Was someone recompiling a module while we were running the simulation?"

Tonks shook her head. "No, sir! Everything was normal, no other programs were interfering."

Eon had a guilty look on his face. "I don't know what happened, sir. I'm sorry. I guess I'm not really ready to take be an operator. I should have stopped whatever it was from happening."

Seeing the reaction of his crew, Sirius's expression softened. "Then what is going on? This is the second time the system has had problems. First on the ship, and now here in New Salem?"

"You mean," Harry said as he got his breath back, "we weren't actually in the Matrix?"

Sirius Black turned back to Harry, putting a hand on his chest to ease him back down on the pallet. "Don't strain yourself, Harry. We need to check you out for potential damage. What happened there is not supposed to happen."

Harry leaned back on the pallet but continued thinking about the encounter. "Of course. We were still in New Salem. We'd need to be in range of a Machine system to broadcast a hacking signal," Harry berated himself for his overreaction. "That was some kind of training simulation."

Eon confirmed his suspicions. "Right. A little different each time, but always with the same punch line: an Agent puts a gun in your face."

"But why?" Harry asked, wondering what he had learned from the experience. He sat up again, not willing to remain immobile on the pallet.

"It's to teach you that you can't trust anyone still plugged into the Machine system, even if they are on our side. The Machines can possess them if they are aware of our presence. Even our allies can suddenly become Agents," Sirius explained. "But that's not important for now. The system bugs are a far more serious issue." Black paused for a moment and shot Tonks a glare as she started to open her mouth with a giggle, "No name jokes!"

"Alright, alright. I won't say that every issue with you is a Sirius issue," she said, eliciting a grin from Harry. If anything was inevitable, it was name puns based on Sirius Black's name. Tonks continued before anyone could respond. "But speaking of important issues, I do have a theory about what might be happening."

Everyone gave Tonks their attention. She went to a small storage shelf and pulled something out and walked back. "When we retrieved Eon and removed some of the more uncomfortable machine implants, we found this," she said revealing a long, thin, metal rod. "We didn't know what to make of it, but when we found Harry we discovered something similar in him. It's a metal alloy we haven't been able to identify."

Harry saw Tonks pull out a second rod similar to the other. He gasped when she did so. The shape and length reminded him of something from the Matrix world. From Hogwarts.

"My wand," he said with a bit of a gasp.

Tonks and Sirius looked at Harry with doubtful looks, but Eon looked thoughtful.

"It does look like that, doesn't it?" he said to Harry. The other former Hogwarts student nodded.

"Mine was eleven inches long, made of holly with a phoenix feather core," Harry said remembering. "It was like a part of me. Whenever I did magic I could recall its exact shape and feel. That looks just like it."

"Well, I doubt it is really a magic wand," Tonks said, "but the tests we ran on it did have some interesting results. After seeing what happened with you, I have a theory about why it was there. I'd like to run some further tests."

Harry nodded. "Okay, and we can get back to training."

Sirius shook his head. "Nobody is going into the simulator until we get some answers about what is going on here."

Eon saw the disappointed look on Harry's face. "Sir, we only encountered trouble while in the Construct program. Harry got eight straight hours of downloads without an incident."

Sirius nodded. "Harry can keep downloading training programs. That should be safe."

Harry grinned. He really liked the knowledge downloads.

"But first, it's time we all got something to eat," Sirius said with a grin when Harry's stomach rumbled as if on cue.

* * *

><p><em>00100100 00100100 00100100<em>

* * *

><p>"Are you sure?" Sirius asked. "He'll be safe? You can guarantee it?"<p>

"No," Tonks replied. "But we can't know for sure unless we run a live test. The logs show an uncharacteristic continuous feedback when Harry was jacked in, both in the simulation and when he's downloading a training program. That, apparently, is the source of the instability in the Construct program. We've tried plugging him in for uploading with the rod connected to him and the result was that the unwanted interference was cancelled out."

Sirius nodded. "Send Harry in. He'll be the one taking the risk."

Harry walked in looking refreshed after a meal and a good night's sleep. Tonks explained what they thought was happening and the apparent purpose of the wand-like metal rod. She carefully explained the possible risks if there was a disruption to the program.

"Do you think that's why I was sent to Hogwarts in the first place? I have some kind of abnormality that causes some sort of electrical feedback to the Matrix system and the Machines are studying it?"

Tonks nodded. "That's my theory. If I'm right, this is big news. It means that humans are somehow evolving a defense against Virtual Reality imprisonment. Eon and I are negative for it, but some of the other Hogwarts students might be like you."

"Alright then," Harry said. "Hook me in. It doesn't matter what the risk is. If this is true it's too important not to do this."

"If there's any sign of trouble I will end the simulation," Sirius said. "Taking risks is one thing, but being reckless is another matter. Don't push him too hard, Tonks."

Tonks settled down onto the pallet next to Harry as they were both strapped in. She gave him a wink. "We're gonna have some fun, Harry."

The control room vanished in a blink of the eye. Harry had the brief sensation of flashes of code flying by him, and then suddenly he was standing in the middle of a large room. It appeared that he was in some sort of martial arts dojo, complete with sliding Japanese doors, a cushioned floor, and _kanji_ for terms like respect and loyalty hanging from the walls.

Then Tonks was there in front of him dressed in a white martial arts _gi_ similar to the one he was now wearing. Harry always found it surprising how her looks changed within a virtual environment. It had something to do with her residual self-image being unstable, something that usually caused a complete rejection of the Matrix, but with her, it allowed her to consciously control her appearance. It also tended to shift subconsciously when she was emotional. Her hair was a wicked shade of red at the moment and her eyes were slanting slightly. He had to admit, she looked hot.

"Just a warning, Harry, damage done to your body in here will translate into physical harm in the real world. Your mind believes the pain and reacts to it. Too great a shock and you'll actually die."

The older teen made a quick dash to the back of the room, spun, and kicked the wall. The wall bent like rubber and she catapulted off of it to fly back to her original position where she landed gracefully on one foot, her arms in the air in the posture of bird wings lightening her landing. Harry noticed that where her foot had struck the wall there was a crack.

"The physics of this place is similar to that of the Matrix, but with a few…modifications. The environment will react to your will if your thoughts are strong enough, and the floor is designed to cushion falls." Tonks entered into a traditional martial arts stance. "Now, let's play."

Harry noted the stance she was using, recognizing it from the training downloaded into his mind. He countered with a martial arts form he thought would be a good counter to what she was using. Then, before he had centered himself, she was charging at him, her strikes coming furiously. He was hard pressed to keep up with her speed. When an opening finally came, he started his counter-attack but then suddenly hesitated. The thought of striking a girl, especially one he considered a friend, made him pull back.

The moment of indecision cost him. One moment he had her arm blocked out wide and his fist was slipping inside her guard, and the next he felt her foot impacting his face. He spun like a twisting top and fell to the ground, his jaw stinging. He got up slowly.

"Take your time, Harry," Tonks said. "We won't be practicing hitting an opponent when they're down during _this_ sparring session." She gave him a half frown. "But this holding back against me is not going to work."

"S-Sorry," Harry stammered out. "I've never hit a girl before." A dark look from her made him think he had said the wrong thing. "Or a good friend. I'm not used to it."

"That's alright, Harry," the young woman standing a few feet away said. "Getting used to full contact and getting rid of our inhibitions is part of the reason for this program." Suddenly, she was directly in front of him, landing a crushing kick to his stomach. Harry flew backwards, his back striking the wall, which stretched out to cushion the blow. "And besides, the longer you don't fight your best the longer I can enjoy kicking your ass!"

That was when Harry realized how much of an advantage she had on him in strength and speed. He rolled to his feet and attacked back, charging up to her and then suddenly changing directions to throw a spinning elbow. She blocked, and Harry twisted his body back around for a spinning kick. She ducked under that and hit him with another punch to his stomach. The force of the blow sent Harry sliding back across the room on his heels.

"Still think holding back against me is a good idea, Harry?" Tonks taunted.

"No," Harry said, rubbing his stomach. "You're a lot stronger and faster than me," he said. "You've been doing this a lot longer than I have, you know."

Tonks charged towards him again, but leapt into the air and did an aerial flip over his head before he could react. By the time he turned around, she had already landed and begun a foot sweep which knocked him from his feet again. Then she leaped up into the air impossibly high and began descending with her knee aimed for his face. Harry barely rolled out of the way before her knee smashed into the spot on the floor where his head had just been, cracking the floor with the force of the impact.

"You're right, Harry," Tonks said as she watched him get to his feet with a look of shock on his face. "I am stronger and faster. But does that have anything to do with physical exercise?"

Harry's breaths were coming hard. His body was just not used to moving at a pace like that, even if he had the training. His muscles felt sore.

Tonks smirked, "Do you think that is actually air that you are breathing? Is that burning you are feeling actually your muscles?" She remembered when almost those exact same words had been said to her.

It had the same effect on Harry. He looked down at himself and realized that everything he was seeing and feeling was simply code fed into his mind. Instantly, just by realizing his fatigue was imaginary, he was refreshed. The burning was gone from his muscles. He no longer felt the need to gasp for breath.

He charged at Tonks with a renewed energy, launching a series of jabs and short kicks at her. But she was still faster than him. Much, much faster. She caught both of his hands with hers.

"You still don't get it, eh, Harry?" She said with a smirk. "How fast you are here has nothing to do with how fast you are in real life. The only thing that matters is how fast you _know_ you are. How strong you _know_ you are." She threw Harry over her shoulder back the other way so far that he flew all across the length of the room.

She smiled to see that as he fell he performed a mid-air flip and landed in a kneeling position rather than simply crashing to the ground as physics would have demanded. It was the first sign that he was redefining what he believed he could do. Harry got up off the floor with a look of fierce determination. He abruptly turned away towards the back of the room, ran a foot up off the wall, and launched himself back towards Tonks in a low arcing kick that took him all the way back to her.

His extended foot met her open palm and there was a clash of powerful forces within the room. Harry was knocked backwards through the air, but Tonks was also forced to stumble backwards as well. Harry Potter recovered and then jumped in, his fist striking with an open palm which Tonks promptly blocked. But now the young teenager was striking faster. With each attack his speed increased; with each blow his power went up. Soon the two were standing toe to toe, their attacks and counters a ballet of strikes and blocks.

Until Tonks suddenly doubled her speed and cracked Harry on the jaw.

* * *

><p><em>00100101 00100101 00100101<em>

* * *

><p>"Ow," Harry said as Tonks joined him in the weight room where he was furiously punishing a punching bag. He couldn't hit the bag in the real world nearly as hard as he could in the simulation.<p>

"Feeling the bruises?" the teen said with a grin as she got behind the bag to hold it for him.

"Yes, but I'm really still smarting from that last punch. You hit me so hard I still felt it when I woke up. I thought I was doing alright, but you were really holding back on me before. Thanks. I mean that."

"Of course," she said with a sly smile. "It's terrible manners to beat up on a poor defenseless boy."

"Oh piss off!" he said playfully. Harry punched the bag harder. He ended up hurting his hand.

After a few moments, he stopped punching and looked at the girl, whose hair was once again a plain brown and who was wearing a very plain gray shirt and somewhat tattered shorts. She looked much different than her image within the program. "Will I ever be able to move as fast as that here in the real world?" he asked.

In answer, Tonks moved over to a second punching bag and sent a series of punches and kicks into it. It was clearly much stronger than Harry's rather feeble punches.

"Good, but not nearly as fast as you were in the training program," he noted. That was her answer.

Tonks smiled. "Sometimes being in there makes you feel like a super human. And that can be attractive. But it isn't real. And it would be meaningless to lose yourself in that." Then she spun and did a perfect wheel kick that snapped into the bag, knocking the entire thing flying up high. It was impressive.

"On the other hand, training in there can help you know how to push past artificial limitations our minds create." Tonks walked over and took Harry's hand. "Come on," she urged him. "Captain Sirius has one more training program he wants you to go through now that we've analyzed the data from the last simulation."

"So, I'm not a miserable failure?" Harry asked, half seriously.

"Failure?" Tonks asked as she led him back towards the control room.

"Well, I mean, I didn't exactly do well in there. You wiped the floor with me and you weren't even trying hard."

Tonks laughed. "So, you think you did terribly, huh? I can't wait to tease Sirius about that."

"Huh?" Harry voiced his lack of understanding aloud.

"Well, kiddo," Tonks said with a grin, "your readings from the last twenty seconds of our little spar rated your speed and reaction time as close to equal to Sirius's when he's fighting. So you basically just said he's bollocks at fighting. When it comes to hand to hand, Sirius is on the low end of the performance scale." Tonks laughed again. "Sirius has always preferred firearms. He's really a crack shot. But it's fun to tease him about his hand to hand skills."

"So, will I get better? I mean, you said exercise doesn't make any difference. So, will practicing do anything for me?"

Tonks's expression turned pensive for a moment. "I suppose it depends on _how_ you practice. In some ways, the more you practice the more you reinforce on your mind the limits of what you are able to do. But say, if you practice with someone much faster than you all the time, you'll probably catch up to their speed eventually."

Harry nodded. That made sense. "So, you're the fastest on the _Lupin_?"

Tonks shook her head. "Used to be. But Eon's got me beat now. Some of his performances are at the same level as an Agent, and he's still getting faster."

The pair headed into the control room to see most of the original crew of the _Lupin_ gathered together. Remus was there, as were Alastor and Shaq. Eon and Sirius were there as well. Watching someone's first "Jump" was something of a tradition. Nobody made it their first time. People's belief in gravity was just too strong. It took a lot of reconditioning to break through that. There was something funny about watching someone try to jump from one tall building to another and fall screaming down, only to be bounced up from the pavement as if it were a trampoline. It was like watching Wile E. Coyote.

Harry walked over to the third pallet in the room for jacking in. He always used the third one. There was some sort of emotional safety in the routine. Knowing a long needle was going to be poked into a hole in the back of his head was unsettling. Going back to the same seat he had gone to before eased his mind somehow. Seeing his old friend from back in Hogwarts strap in beside him was reassuring as well. Looking at his friend, Harry couldn't help but think of his time being the one showing "John Anderson" around the campus. Even though it had been but a few months, it seemed like years and years ago now that he had been enrolled in a school of magic-which was actually just another part of the Matrix.

"Hey, Harry. If you find yourself falling, don't worry. This is a safe simulation," Eon said quietly before they jacked in. "Best not to scream if you do, though, the others will tease you about it."

Harry closed his eyes and then he had the sensation of the world melting away, followed by the rapid imposition of a new scene upon his senses. Harry found himself standing up on the top of a skyscraper looking out on a city. Beside him was Eon. Harry had to do a double take at the all-black outfit, including a trench coat and sunglasses. He had to admit, it looked good on him. Made him look like some kind of secret agent from a Muggle television program.

Eon looked at Harry and gave him a small brief smile. "I'm supposed to tell you that the rules of the Matrix can be influenced by your mind. Sometimes you can bend the rules a little, sometimes you can outright break them. The Matrix will tell you that your body can't do something, but you have tell it right back that you can. It doesn't really matter what I say, though. What matters is that you really believe what you are about to see. Know in your heart that you can do this. Just envision your destination and know you can make it there. Deliberation. Destination. Determination. You can do it."

And then Eon leapt off the building from where he stood.

Harry watched with his mouth gaping open. Eon shot across the expanse between the building he was on and the next building almost as if he were flying. It made Harry remember the feeling of being on a Hogwarts broom just watching it. But then Harry calculated Eon's speed and the angle of his jump. Not only was he going to make the distance, it looked like he was going to overshoot his landing! But just as Eon passed over the midpoint of the next building, Harry watched as the arc suddenly changed and his friend pitched down towards the building as if being sucked there by a magnet.

"Whoah!" the exclamation escaped Harry's lips.

"Remember, Harry!" Eon yelled out from the other building. "Deliberation! Destination! Determination! You can do it! Come on!"

Harry looked at the distance, sucked in his breath, and steeled himself. But then he realized that all of those actions were physical. It was about his mind. It was about his belief, not about whether or not his physical body could jump that far. Harry focused his mind on the spot next to Eon. He could see it in his mind. He knew he could reach there. In his mind, he was there already. He tensed.

_**CRACK!**_

* * *

><p><em>00100110 00100110 0010110<em>

* * *

><p>"What the hell?" Sirius shouted in disbelief as he stared at the monitor.<p>

The room was stunned. More than one person stood there with their mouths hanging open.

Harry had not managed to jump across from one building to the next on his first try. But he hadn't fallen, either. Instead, one instant he was standing on the first building, the next instant he was standing on the other building right beside Eon. He had teleported.

"Did you see that?" Shaq asked. "That's impossible!"

"Apparently not," Alastor retorted. "You just saw it happen."

"Get them both out of there," Sirius said with a stunned expression still on his face. "We're going to all need to be ready to leave soon."

Tonks looked at Sirius questioningly. "Why? I thought we had another two weeks before our next mission."

"Not after seeing that, we don't. I'm going to petition the Council to take both Eon and Harry to the Oracle," Sirius replied.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Author's Note: <em>**_Since starting writing this, I've come across another Harry/Matrix cross by Hoshi-tachi called "Know Thyself" (which I would recommend). In her story, Harry is able to Apparate within the Matrix just as Harry did in this chapter. While I thought of writing this scene before I read Hoshi-tachi's story, there is no question that she wrote her chapter before mine. Just a matter of disclosure in case someone thinks one person is copying the other._****

* * *

><p><strong><em>See that little link down there? Click it and leave a review please! I'll appreciate it!<em>**


	10. Chapter 10: Journey of Discovery

**Chapter 10: Journey to Discovery**

* * *

><p><em>00100111 00100111 00100111<em>

* * *

><p>Harry Potter gulped at the intimidating scene before him.<p>

A panel of eight people sat together in a row, stern expressions on their faces. They looked a lot like McGonagall had when she was reprimanding someone for something (which, as Harry recalled, was probably about half the time he had heard her speaking). Harry was just glad that it wasn't he who was the target of these looks.

Sirius, however, stood before them unflinchingly. He even had a half smile on his face. He seemed to relish this sort of attention. Remus, standing at his side, had a sober look on his face, but he did not appear to be the least troubled, either. Eon stood beside Remus, looking stoic and cool. For his part, Harry stayed in his place to the side, trying not to draw any additional attention to himself. Something along the lines of what Vernon Dursley would call "keeping quiet and pretending not to exist" except that this time Harry was the one not wanting himself to be noticed.

"Captain Sirius. The Council has approved your request to present Eon as a Potential to the Oracle. Despite having only been a crewman for barely the minimum required time, Eon's physical and mental scores are well within the acceptable range for a full crew member. Though he was freed much later than usual, that will not be counted against _him_. As a legal adult, he has the right to accept or reject your request." This was said by a stern looking older man with dark skin, a touch darker than Shaq's, with solid black hair. "However, your request to also bring Harry Potter, a thirteen year old child, is denied."

Sirius began to speak but another member of the council, this one with brown hair and a lighter complexion, raised her hand to forestall him. Her eyes were no less stern looking. "We will hear your appeal to our decision, but I must say that your very request makes us all wonder at your judgment as a captain of a hovercraft, Captain. You would have us send a minor, newly freed and just barely returned to health, on a perilous mission inside the Matrix? If you are reckless with whom you take as your crew and on dangerous missions, what else might you be reckless about?"

A third member of the seated council gestured towards Sirius. "You may make your appeal now, but bear in mind that your words will bear as much on the issue of your remaining an active ship captain as they do on the issue of your request." Apparently, he had no fans on the council.

Sirius gave a winning smile. "I completely understand, Councilmen, Councilwomen." The black haired captain swept into a bow. Remus rolled his eyes, though everyone's attention was on the flamboyant hovership captain. "If I thought someone were endangering young Harry, here, I'd respond just the same way, but perhaps with a bit more violence."

The council did not look impressed.

"You're not helping yourself with that wisecrack about violence," Remus whispered.

"Tough crowd," Sirius whispered back. "But I'll win them over."

"First of all, as to the matter of Harry's enlistment in the military, I understand that he is underage to serve as a full crew member. But, I must point out that service on a hovership has always been different from other areas of the military. While infantry, APU teams, and scouts have a minimum age of around eighteen, those whose minds who had been freed often began apprenticing aboard hoverships at much younger ages. During the War for—"

"We are not at war, Captain Sirius, need I remind you? And we do not want to take any actions that would lead to a renewal of war," the councilwoman who had addressed Sirius second interrupted him sternly.

"Thank you for reminding me of that important fact, Councilwoman…" Sirius grasped momentarily for her name, "…Amelia." Sirius smiled kindly. "But I was merely pointing out the fact that it is not uncommon for minors to spend significant time aboard hovercraft before reaching the age of majority."

"Captain Sirius, if you had merely requested to have Mr. Harry Potter, who has just joined the military as a cadet this past week, assigned to your ship for periodic training, we would have had no objections. But you have requested something far beyond that! You want to take him into an area of the Matrix likely to be heavily scrutinized by Programs, into obvious danger. That is not something we do with young cadets like young Mr. Harry Potter!"

Murmurs of assent could be heard from the entire council table.

"While I think you are overstating the danger in visiting the Oracle, you are right that I would normally not make a request of someone so young. But Eon and Harry are both _exceptionally_ exceptional. So much so, that delaying for half a decade while his body grows hair in places that it currently doesn't have any could be costly."

At a gesture of Sirius, Remus clicked a few buttons on a clear glass console in front of him. "You have our reports on the hidden subsystem within Matrix Secondary Core 33.7?" The council responded with speculative murmurs and cautious nods to Remus's question. "The Programs have an entirely different purpose within this isolated and carefully controlled sub-section. It is heavily encrypted. Every attempt we have made to breach this security has failed. It is obviously a high priority for _Them_. We don't know what all is at stake, but if it is guarded this tightly, it must be of immense value."

The council members looked to each other questioningly. They were, of course, of this new and disturbing development. But they had no idea what it had to do with the request before them.

Sirius moved to put his hands on Harry's shoulder. "Ladies and gentlemen, let me present you with the encryption key." The entire council turned as one to regard Sirius with renewed interest. Their eyes slowly found their way down to Harry. "Both Eon and Harry Potter have de-encryption keys wired into their neural interface, linked to their brain stems. The Machines intended for these two free young minds to spend the rest of their lives trapped within that specific section of the Matrix that we are so interested in learning about. They are the only ones who can by-pass _both_ layers of encryption to get inside."

"You might be wondering why we don't just start with Eon and send Harry to the Oracle after he has grown up a bit," Remus added. "And to tell the truth, if I hadn't seen what I'm about to show you, I might have agreed with you. This is from Harry's first attempt at the 'Jump' program. I'm sure you are all familiar with that that?"

Not all the council members were freed minds, some being natural born, but they had all heard about the "infamous" training program all rookies cut their teeth on. They nodded, and there were even a few chuckles. And then Remus played the video.

"This is a fixed angle, directly above the scene. Watch closely."

They watched what went on within the Construct program impassively. Then they got to the part where Harry prepared to jump, but instead teleported across to the other side. There were a number of gasps from the council.

Sirius looked smug.

"We have a lot of questions. The Oracle has been one of our best sources of answers over the years," Remus concluded. "If this video is any indication, there's a lot more to what's going on in that little program than we had previously thought. You've seen our reports about the 'magical world' they have set up. What we don't know is why they are doing it and what it has to do with these two young men. This is too important to wait on."

There was a moment of hurried discussion at the council table before one of their members said anything in response. "We'll need time to confer," the council member who had first addressed them said. The sternness and disapproval that had been in his expression before was now replaced by acknowledgment and respect along with obvious surprise. Sirius, Remus, Eon and Harry exited the room.

It was about nervous ten minutes before they were called back in.

"The issue you brought before this council was a serious one," the dark skinned councilman who seemed to serve as the general spokesman began, "and we found it difficult to balance the needs of the people against our duty to protect the young. Before we render our decision, we would like to hear from the boy in question. Harry Potter, what do you think of all of this?"

Harry gulped, looked briefly towards Sirius, and then turned back towards the Council. "Well, sir, I'm not really sure what to make of this. To tell the truth, it's a lot like suddenly being told on your eleventh birthday that you're a wizard and that your mum and dad weren't killed in an auto accident like you had been told, but that it was really some old Dark Lord who had done it." There were looks of confusion on some of the faces of the council members, but on others, looks of understanding as they realized that was actually what had happened to this young boy. It had to be a shocking, amazing, and painful experience all at once.

"But I do know this," Harry continued. "I'm grateful to Captain Sirius, and to Remus, and Eon, and all the crew of the _Lupin_ for freeing me. And I still have friends in Hogwarts, that's the name of the magic school back in the Matrix where I spent most of my time," he added for the benefit who didn't remember the name from their reports, "I still have friends in there who don't even know what's happening to them. And well, I want to help them, and as soon as I can. And everyone else enslaved to those Machines. So, if there's a chance that going to see this Oracle can help, well, then I want to do it. And if it's dangerous, well…I don't care. Not really."

There were murmurs from the council, nods of approval, and whispers. After a few moments, the lead speaker spoke once more.

"One month," he said.

"Pardon me?" Sirius replied.

"Your request is approved, but you must wait a minimum of one month before you may set out, one month to train and prepare Mr. Harry Potter." The speaker paused, a steely look entering his gaze, "And if after one month he is still not prepared, you will take Eon to the Oracle alone and Harry will need to wait another three months before a second petition will be entertained. Is that clear, Captain?"

Sirius smiled. "Perfectly clear, Councilman. Council members. Thank you."

Harry's heart was racing inside his chest. He felt as if he had just passed some sort of test.

* * *

><p><em>00101000 00101000 00101000<em>

* * *

><p>Harry was panting with exertion, doubled over, gasping for air. He had never felt so tired in his life. Aside from waking up in the real word having found his body horribly weak from not ever actually having been used, that is. But this was different. This was the burning from having pushed his body to its limits, and judging from the pain he was just starting to feel, maybe a bit beyond. He had just finished running four kilometers in his best time, and that was after lifting weights, a test of his combat reflexes that involved hitting targets with a staff in rapid succession, and climbing a ten meter vertical surface.<p>

The agony he felt in his side felt good to him. He managed to catch his breath enough to stand up straight, though he still rested his hand on his hips in his exhaustion. A trio of familiar faces came walking up to him and Harry grinned at them. Sirius, Eon, and Tonks approached.

"Well? How did I do?" Harry asked.

Sirius shook his head. "I'm sorry, Harry, but you failed."

All the good cheer left Harry in that instant, and he collapsed to the ground in a dejected heap. This meant the Council would not let him join the crew of the _Lupin_. It would be another 6 months at least, 3 months to petition again and 3 more months of training, before he could go to see the Oracle and the possibility of rescuing his friends trapped back in "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" would only get slimmer. He had tried so hard…

"You just don't have enough endurance, strength, or speed, Harry, I'm sorry. Your psychological exam and intelligence aptitude tests were all more than satisfactory, but your physical shape is just too far below standard," Sirius explained.

Harry nodded his head wearily, fighting back the tears that threatened to unman him in front of the others.

"Oh, come on, Sirius, stop teasing him," Eon chided. "He's going to feel horrible."

"Alright, alright. Like I said, Harry, you definitely failed the physical exam…if you were applying for the Elite Infantry Ranger program. For joining a Hovercraft crew you've passed with an 'average' rating."

Harry sat there for a moment processing what Sirius had said. Then his jaw dropped open and he had to put his hands flat on the ground to support himself. He half panted, half threatened, "Sirius, when I get my breath back, I'm going to get you. You know that, right?"

Tonks laughed. "Why do you think he told you right after you had collapsed from exhaustion?"

Eon wore a big smile as he helped Harry get to his feet. "Come on, my Gryffindor friend. Get up. You know you gotta cool down after exerting yourself so much."

Harry's respiratory system protested, but he still did as his friend bid him. He got back up and began walking along with his crew mates. Harry grinned to himself. Now that he had passed the tests set by the council, he would officially be part of the _Lupin_ crew. Harry stretched his arms as he walked.

"So, what is this 'Elite Infantry Ranger' program I don't qualify for?" Harry asked as they walked.

Tonks took the time to explain this. "EIR is for training special infantry soldiers. They do things like explore Machine patrolled areas on foot looking for lost artifacts and technology, capture Machines for research, and serve as advanced scouting parties for VIP civilian groups if they venture beyond the city gates."

Harry looked thoughtful. That sounded dangerous…and important. "Have any of you thought of doing that?"

Tonks grinned. "They've only asked me to join about 20 times. Comes from being in the top 1% of all tested."

Eon added, "Not many people can transfer the physical skills uploaded into the mind into real life movement well. Tonks, here, is one of the best at that. Inside the Matrix I can beat her, but out here in the real world, no way."

"But I'd rather be with the _Lupin_," Tonks finished. "I think I owe it to those who have not been freed. There are a lot more of them in there than there are of us out here. Besides, even if Eon is better than me inside the Matrix, I can still take Sirius either place just fine."

"Okay, that's enough bragging for now, Nymphadora," Sirius teased.

"Nymphadora?" Harry asked quizzically.

"Don't call me," Tonks said, suddenly moving mid-sentence to land a sharp kick to Sirius's buttocks, "Nymphadora!"

Sirius hit the ground hard, but came up in a roll, still grinning.

"Oh, Sirius," Eon _tsked_ as the young woman charged forward with uncanny speed and swept Sirus's legs out from under him. "That was not smart." Sudden yelps of pain were heard from the hovercraft captain. "We were just saying how Tonks is in the top 1% of physical skill test-ees. Not smart at all."

Sirius was now pinned to the ground flat on his stomach, one of his arms twisted backwards around behind him in a triangle shape. Tonks's knee was poking into the small of Sirius's back. Sirius's head was being pressed to the ground.

"Now," Tonks asked in a low, threatening voice. "What's my name?"

"Tonks! It's Tonks!"

Harry laughed, and as tired as he was from his testing, he felt really good.

"I think that covers mentioning Tonks's old Matrix name where she can hear you," Eon said good naturedly.

Harry nodded his head in agreement.

* * *

><p><em>00101001 00101001 00101001<em>

* * *

><p>The massive steel inner doors of New Salem opened slowly, revealing a narrow tunnel with the exit blocked ahead by a second metal doorway. Remus sat at the controls, answering the central tower communications and maneuvering the hovercraft into the passageway. The <em>Lupin<em> was a sleek ship with six large pads on the bottom and four smaller pads on the front, rear, and sides for maneuvering. The hull was covered with dark, light absorbing pigments.

Inside the ship, Harry looked out as the large mechas called Armored Personnel Units, or APUs, aimed their massive armaments at the center of the outer doors as the inner doors began to slowly close. The outer doors slowly slid open in turn, revealing a natural rock face leading into the tunnel system which connected into the massive sewer complex which interconnected the remains of the former human cities. New Salem had been created from what had once apparently been a mining complex on the border of the territory controlled by what would become the Machine City. It had taken five years to turn the complex into a base capable of sustaining a population of around twenty-five thousand, including the massive greenhouse which provided the bulk of the food.

The _Lupin_ exited from the chamber, and Harry could see that the doors closing behind them were covered in rock to match the rest of the surface, making the entrance virtually undetectable. Harry could feel himself tense up. He was back out in the open world where the Machines controlled everything. At any moment a Sentinel could appear out of the blue and…

"Relax, Harry," Remus told him with a chuckle. We're not out in the wilds yet. These areas are closed off, monitored by camera, and patrolled by remotes. We will need to take a circuitous route away from the city before exiting one of several exit points into the Machine controlled space. We won't be running into any Squiggies just yet."

Harry took a breath and a smile found its way onto his face. Now that he knew they were not yet in danger he could enjoy the experience. He watched the scanners showing a visual of the underground passageways. Smaller monitors showed infrared and passive pulse-echo views of their surroundings. Remus navigated the twists and turns of the tunnel system with practiced ease.

"Will I be trained to pilot the ship, Remus?" There was an eager glint in Harry's eyes as he surveyed the controls to the ship.

"Eventually, Harry. It will be a couple years before you'll be allowed to actually control a hovercraft," Remus said regretfully, but then added with a little enthusiasm, "but we can get you into some simulations soon enough."

"Oh," Harry responded, a bit disappointed. It was impossible for a boy his age to see something like piloting a hovercraft and not want to try it out for himself. Right now.

"Harry Potter," came a gruff voice from behind him. Harry turned to see Alastor stumping over to the piloting section with his mechanical leg. "Why don't I show you how to man the guns? You never know when we might be caught in an ambush and end up short-handed. Would be prudent to have you trained on how to at least aim and fire then, wouldn't it? Constant vigilance! That's what I say."

Harry didn't have to be asked twice. He bounded over towards Alastor, more than ready to try his hands at the weapons system. He missed the wink the scarred man with a shock of white hair on his head shot the grateful pilot. The look of disappointment on Harry's face had been pulling on Remus's heartstrings and Remus was glad Alastor had come up with that suggestion.

"This here is one of our gun turret controls. Fires ballistic armor piercing rounds at high velocity. Each turret has a 120° range of fire. This," Alastor said pointing to the display, "is the targeting display." Alastor hit a series of buttons and a pair of red brackets appeared on the screen. "That is what will be hit if you were to fire right now. There are two ways on this system to aim. First, is this control stick."

Alastor moved the stick around, tracing a line on the cavern wall displayed on the screen. "It's the most precise way of controlling the weapons, but a bit tricky. Now, you try."

Harry took the control in his hand and the red targeting bracket jumped erratically despite Harry's efforts to keep the brackets in a straight line. "It's a lot harder than it looked when you did it," the thirteen-year old noted.

"Takes practice. But you'll get it. In the mean time, though, you can use the touch screen to guide the guns. Not as accurate, but a lot easier." Alastor demonstrated using his finger to move the targeting brackets around the screen.

Harry spent the next hour practicing using the screen and the control stick for targeting, the war veteran explaining the concepts of leading a target, tracer fire, and critical points in the ship's defense. He answered Harry's questions about munitions supplies, explaining how there was a massive stockpile that had never been used as the Machines had overrun the human defenses quicker than they had ever thought possible. When the explanations were done, as much as he wanted to, Harry didn't ask if he could actually fire a shot. While he wanted to blast some target with canon fire as much as the next teenage boy, he had no desire to give away the position of the _Lupin_ to any Machine that might be tracking sound in the area.

It wasn't long before Harry lost all track of time. The hours had passed by and Harry was still "training" with the controls when he was suddenly startled from his concentration. "Hey, there, hotshot!" Tonks said teasingly as she ambushed him from behind, ruffling his hair playfully. After a moment of Harry ducking away from the older girl and Tonks mercilessly poking him in numerous ticklish spots on his back and sides, the two ended up standing together with their fingers extended menacingly in tickling position, grinning on the gunnery deck.

"How long have you been at that?" the older teen asked. At Harry's shrug, Tonks grabbed his hand and tugged him back towards the navigational control room. "Come on then! It's my shift as navigator and you're going to be my First Mate."

Harry shot Tonks a wolfish grin. "Be your first mate? Tonks, aren't I a little too young for that? I mean, I'm flattered you want me to be your first time and all but…"

Tonks turned a half-scandalized look on Harry. "You _have_ been spending way too much time with Captain Sirius!" But then her expression changed, her mouth forming into a mischievous half smile as she changed from gripping his wrist and pulling him along, to her arm snaking around his shoulders. "Now that you mention it, though, Harry, I do like younger men."

Harry's grin disappeared and was replaced by a look of panic.

"Wait, Tonks…hold on…"

"Don't be shy, Harry," Tonks whispered seductively.

"Hey, I'm only 13. Well, I'll be 14 in a few months, but, still, I…"

The older teen couldn't hold her laughter in any longer. She let go of Harry, who quickly backed away, and then she snorted once or twice as she chortled, throwing her head back in laughter. "Oh, Harry, that was priceless…the look on your face…"

Harry's face flushed with a bit of color as he tried to regain his composure and his dignity and succeeding at neither. "Hey, it wasn't that funny."

"You did look pretty much like you were about to jump out of your skin, there, Harry," Remus's voice chimed in. "It _was_ amusing."

The young man covered his face. "Oh, Merlin, not you, too…I mean…"

"Don't worry, Harry. Tonks and I will be the only ones to tease you mercilessly about this for the rest of your life. And maybe one or two others we let it slip to at strategically embarrassing moments." Remus pat the young man consolingly on the shoulder, then gave Harry a little wink and a conspiratorial whisper. "Never tease a teaser, Harry. Not until you know they'll be more embarrassed than you."

Tonks, serious once more, nodded to Remus. "I was just about to relieve you. Sirius in there navigating?"

Remus nodded back. "Well, I'll get some beauty sleep. We'll be coming up on our broadcast point in about six hours."

Harry and Tonks stepped into the ship's control room and Tonks took the controls from the ship captain. Harry took the chair next to Tonks and Sirius made to leave the two alone. Just before stepping through the doorway, Sirius turned back and gave some last minute instructions. "It should be a straight shot to our destination. We aren't expecting any Machine activity in the region, but if you come across anything, the tiniest blip on the screen, you sound the ship alarm and find a spot to hide the ship. Remus or I will be down to handle the situation. Got it?"

"Got it, Captain," Tonks replied soberly, but with a silly looking salute that put a smile on the captain's otherwise very Sirius face.

* * *

><p><em>00101010 00101010 00101010<em>

* * *

><p>The time passed by swiftly as Tonks piloted the ship through the complex system of interlocking tunnels. Harry's eyes took in everything, and Tonks was more than eager to explain what she knew of the history of the tunnel systems and how they had once supported the building complexes up on the surface. The pair joked and laughed as the miles stretched out. After a short companionable silence, Tonks turned from the controls for a moment and gave Harry an appraising look.<p>

"You know, Harry, I was only half joking about you being cute," she said before looking back at the viewscreen. They were in a wide open section, with no turns or objects in sight.

"So, I guess I'm _half_ cute, then?" Harry joked.

Tonks turned back to grin at Harry. "That's what I like about ya 'Arry," she said warmly, a touch of her accent returning. "You've got a right good sense of humor. And for a girl like me, that means more than what a bloke looks like. 'Course, doesn't hurt that you have such adorable green eyes."

"Come on, Tonks, quit having me on," Harry scowled slightly. "Once was enough today."

"No, I mean it, Harry," Tonks insisted. "We're both still a bit young, but in a few years I could definitely see us going out. Happens with crewmates a lot. Not as many females in the military, but overall women outnumber men three to two in Zion. Not easy for a girl, especially one on a hovercraft half the time, to find a decent guy."

"So you wanna put a claim on me early, is that it?" Harry joked.

Tonks smiled winningly, "Sounds like an idea. But really, I'm just saying you're a good looking guy—"

Harry noticed a strange blipping signal on the screen out of the corner of his eye. "Um, Tonks, what is that on the screen?"

Tonks turned back to the screen and swore colorfully. What had been a small blip on the echolaction screen suddenly became of mass of blips, all moving in a straight line towards the _Lupin_. The visuals scanner took a close-up of them and positively identified what they were.

"Squiggies!" The alarms of the ship went off and Tonks banked the ship downward to find some kind of cover in a cavernous section of the underground which may once have served as an underground storage facility which would have housed thousands of crates and vehicles. Now, though, it was nearly empty with only minor burnt out debris to offer as a place to hide.

The knowledge from his training sessions kicked in. Harry realized that tactically, they had almost no chance of surviving. Squiggies were hunter-killer robots with but one mission: exterminating human life. Out here in no-man's-land, they would not hesitate to destroy any ship they found, and Tonks had spotted the squid-like machines too late. If they hadn't already identified the ship, they were bound to investigate the motion and find them.

"Damn it!" Tonks shook with anger at herself. "I should have been paying more attention!"

Harry watched the signals representing the deadly machines growing closer even Tonks tried to set the ship down behind some debris that could offer at least partial cover. But he had a sick feeling that there was no way the machines could miss them.

"What's going on?" Sirius' voice broke in as he stepped into the control room. Moments later he saw for himself.

"Bloody squiggies jumped up out of nowhere. Harry saw them first. I should have been paying more fuc—"

"Language, Tonks," Remus's voice broke in as he entered the control center as well. "We'll talk about blame after we get out of this." Remus quickly assessed the situation. "Looks like a patrol of around twenty sentinels. All but a few are heading our way. The others are holding back out of EMP range."

"Remus, charge the EMP. The moment they start to attack we fire it," Sirius ordered. "Couldn't have happened in a worse place. Nowhere here to run or hide, and too many open angles to try and fight off that many with guns."

Harry Potter relinquished his chair, as did Tonks. His fists were clenched tightly together and his heart pounded within his chest. He had never seen Machines up close, not for real, but he had seen them in the Construct program during training and the things had given him nightmares after seeing what they did. He wasn't supposed to let panic interfere with his behavior in a crisis. He had trained for things like this. But the feeling of impending disaster swept through his heart and he felt as if he couldn't breathe.

Harry closed his eyes tightly and clenched his arms to his chest, his hands balled into fists. "Don't see us, don't see us, don't see us," he repeated over and over to himself. He didn't dare to look up.

The ship collectively held its breath, Remus standing by, his finger hovering over the red glowing button indicating that the EMP was charged. The power was cut to all the main systems to protect them from damage from the coming blast of energy. And then…

The machines stopped coming for them. One moment they were headed in a bee-line for the hovercraft, the next they began looping around, some even passing directly over where the ship was settled. Nobody made a sound and the attack never came. After several tense minutes, the machines simply moved on. After several more minutes, the Machines completely left the ship's detection range.

Remus audibly let out his breath.

"What's going on?" Eon's deep voice broke in coming in from the gunnery deck. "There were machines out there. It was as if I could even feel them, it was so intense."

Sirus shook his head. "They came. They saw. They went away. It was the damndest thing. And don't you dare tell me to watch my language, Remus."

"You think they mis-identified the ship as scrap?" Eon asked.

"Possible, but not very likely. Not as close as they got and not with some of them flying directly over us," Remus answered. "More likely they had orders from the Machine city not to attack us, though why that might be when we're out here away from Zion, I don't know."

From the back of the room, Tonks spoke up. "I'm so sorry everyone." Everyone turned to face the girl who had tears streaking her face. "I never should have looked away from the screen. If I had…I would have seen the blip before we got within range."

Remus walked over to the young woman and put a hand on her shoulder. "We're all okay. Calm down." He waited for the tears to stop falling from her eyes before continuing. "Tonks, how long did you look away for?"

"Several seconds," she answered, pausing. "I was talking with Harry."

Remus cracked a half smile. "Several seconds, huh? I think Sirius and I can both admit that we've taken our eyes off the screens for more than just several seconds before."

Sirius stepped forward. "That's true, but I'm not going to excuse your inattention, Tonks," he said, every inch the ship captain, "but I won't blame you either. We should all be as alert and attentive as we can when we're in control of the ship. But we all do let our attention slip here and there. It's not a good thing, but it is a _human_ thing. We aren't machines. We're people. It could have happened to any of us. We all have to be more vigilant, as Alastor would surely remind us if he were here. As for you chatting here with Harry…"

That was when they all noticed that Harry was still back in a corner with his eyes closed, murmuring to himself. It took Eon walking over and shaking him for Harry to come to his senses.

"You alright, Harry?" he asked quietly.

Harry Potter nodded his head, taking in the sight of most of the crew in the room with him. Suddenly, his fear was replaced with shame at his reaction. He wanted to run from the room, but instead faced his friends, and apologized with a tremulous voice. "I'm sorry everyone. I know I shouldn't panic like that…"

"Oh, not you too!" Sirius rolled his eyes in mock-exasperation. "You and Tonks both need to learn how to properly pass the blame to someone else. Next time this happens, I want to see the two of you pointing your fingers at each other, proper like."

"Besides," Eon added, "not much else you could do in a situation like that. I thinking wishing it would all go away was about as much as you could have done." Eon gave Harry a good-natured thump on the shoulder. "This was your first near-attack on the ship. I about froze up my first time, not too long ago. You'll be fine, don't worry."

Harry nodded his head, grateful that nobody was blaming him for his actions and taking their comforting words as they were meant. But the feeling of guilt and shame was still there in his gut. With his fists clenched, he swore to himself that the next time something like this happened he would be ready to act. Then his fists unclenched and he felt tired.

With Remus back at the controls, the _Lupin_ lifted back off the ground.

"Get some rest you two," Remus ordered. "We'll be in broadcast range in a couple more hours now. Hopefully, we won't have any more encounters like that on our way."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>_ Sorry for the long delay. Had some academic writing to do.

* * *

><p>.<p> 


	11. Chapter 11: Visit to the Oracle Part I

**Chapter 11: A Visit to the Oracle- Part I  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>00101011 00101011 00101011<em>

* * *

><p>Harry lay back on the cold, metallic chair, trying hard not to think about how much it resembled what a dentist chair would look like during a nightmare. This was where his body would spend the next few hours resting while his mind traveled into the Matrix for the first time since being freed from slavery within the virtual world. The monitor recording his heart rate was beeping and blipping at an accelerated pace, revealing the boy's anxiety. Seeing this, the friendly face of Remus looked down on him with a reassuring smile and eyes warm with affection. Harry really liked the man.<p>

Remus was middle-aged, with a brown mustache that made him look dignified and mature. Quite the opposite of Sirius's black mustache that added a roguish quality to the ship captain. They both had kind, playful eyes though. Harry had learned they had been shipmates together before Sirius earned the right to his own vessel. Remus had chosen to follow his friend rather than try to branch out on his own.

"Don't worry, Harry. You'll be in good hands. Sirius is one of the best. In spite of the fact that he acts like he's four years old half the time, he's a complete professional. And Tonks can handle any sort of emergency. There's nothing to worry about," the man reassured Harry.

Harry nodded but couldn't help but think of how things could go wrong. "Remus? What if the worst happens, and…we die in there?" Harry couldn't help but remember how afraid and weak he had been when the Sentinels had nearly discovered the ship.

"Don't think like that, Harry. Nothing is going to happen. You're all going to make it out of there just fine," Remus reassured him.

Harry already knew what would really happen if he or his friends were to 'die' while plugged in. The raw facts about the hacking process had been downloaded into this brain during his training. But he still wanted to hear Remus say that everything would be fine. The truth was that if a hacker died or was disconnected while in the Matrix, they would at best be unconscious for a few days and have a very traumatic experience. There was still a chance for someone to go into a semi-permanent coma or even die of the shock, but things were better now than they were back in the days during the war between Zion and the Machines. Before, there was no buffer for the consciousness like there was on the post-war second and third generation ships. Very few people used to survive a sudden disconnection, or their death in the digitized world; it had been almost unheard of then. Now, however, the more advanced computers developed in Zion stored a person's last 10 seconds of mental awareness in a buffer, and in the event of a disconnect the critical part of the hacker's brain was reset to the buffer state. That was certainly risky, with a chance of causing brain damage, a coma, or worse, but far better than the alternative of almost certain death.

With one last smile from Remus, Harry felt the needle being inserted into the receptacle in the back of his head. There was a sudden scream of white noise in his mind and then his senses began being flooded with signals. _Sights_. _Sounds_. _Physical feeling_. They were all impulses being fed into his mind from the program construct surrounding him in virtual space. Harry could almost sense the flow of code into the simulation of his nervous system. And then his mind began processing it all in a more natural manner and he relaxed.

Harry opened his eyes, his virtual ones, and looked around. He was standing next to an old Muggle telephone, which he knew from his training to actually be a gateway between the digital reality of the Matrix and external electronic world. These gateways were also vulnerable points through which hackers were able to enter the Matrix without detection. Harry was in an old, bare room with wooden walls and a simple bed. They were in a hotel room. Standing next to him were Tonks, Sirius, and Eon. Their old and worn real life clothing of plain browns and green earth tones were now replaced by sharp outfits that looked new and clean. Beneath a long, heavy trench coat, Eon wore an all black outfit consisting of loose-fitting slacks and a dark, off-black T-shirt. Sirius wore a red-velvet business suit coat over a charcoal black vest and deep blue shirt, making him look almost aristocratic with his well-trimmed mustache. Tonks wore black pants and a red blouse, with a solid black coat draped over the entire ensemble.

There was a reason they all had long coats. It was much easier to conceal the weapons they had programmed the Construct to provide them with when they were loaded into the Matrix. Harry looked to his own black robes, reminiscent of his Hogwarts school robes, but cut in the front at the waist so that his legs could move freely. Harry checked the weapons holsters to make sure everything had loaded properly. Then he looked carefully through the black shades that were identical to those worn by his three companions. Through the sunglasses he could see the code streaming around him as if he were sitting at the deck of the Lupin watching the monitors. He could see the symbols representing various subroutines and data connecting each object to the controlling programs beneath the surface of the virtual world.

"Ready to go, Harry?" Sirius asked once Harry had taken a second to orient himself.

"Yeah, I'm good," the young man responded with a nod.

"Tonks," the hovership captain nodded to his young protégé.

"I have the Exit covered," she said with a nod back to the captain. She immediately began setting up several computer systems in the hotel room. With these virtual replicas, she could actually interface with the Matrix code from within the Matrix, and do so stealthily. She would be able to subtly monitor and manipulate programs more easily than Remus could as an operator on the outside. There was a risk of detection, but then, there was always that risk. Sirius, Eon, and Harry, exited the room. With a stroke from Tonks on the keyboard, the door locked behind them, only to open at the touch of one of the group.

Harry felt on-edge back in this virtual world. Where before he had been uncomfortable with the fact that they were around Muggles, now it was the knowledge that every person they might encounter could be a potential enemy and everything else _was_ the enemy. While the program that made up the stairwell they were walking down did not think for itself, the architects controlling the stairwell did and they could at any moment turn the entire building against them if they became aware of the group's presence. The Machines wouldn't, of course. That was far too damaging to the Matrix and would cause Them too much trouble. But they could.

Luckily, they were all but invisible to the outside world. When the code representing their consciousness was inserted into the Matrix, it was wrapped in a shell that disguised their identities while closing them off to the search programs written into the Matrix designed to discover hackers. As Harry, Eon, and Sirius exited the back of the hotel lobby, Harry could see the sentient programs around them give them no notice at all. The only ones who even looked their direction were the minds of humans still plugged into the machines responding to the visual cues they were receiving.

The trio took the back alleys and side streets of the town. They were in a reconstruction of the city of New York, but far from the urban center where security was the tightest. There would be fewer passersby here, though the streets were still busy with people going about their daily lives. A group of young kids passed by on Harry's left. Harry glanced to the side, as did Eon and Sirius, just in time to see the traffic lights on the side street turn red simultaneously. As they passed the next intersection, Harry looked and noticed the same exact thing happened to the lights down that street as well. They all turned red at the same time for as many blocks ahead as he could see.

"Déjà vu," Harry muttered to himself.

"What did you say?" Sirius asked, stopping dead still alongside Eon.

"Déjà vu," Harry repeated a little louder. "I thought I saw something happen twice in a row."

"What exactly did you see, Harry," Eon asked. "Was it the exact same thing happening twice, or was it two similar things?"

Right. Alterations in the Matrix. Harry remembered that when things in the Matrix code changed, whatever event happened just before the change would be repeated. Harry frowned. "I think it was two different things," Harry said. "I saw a set of traffic lights all turn red at the same time at the last intersection. Then on the next block the lights all turned red at the same time again."

Eon and Sirius relaxed. "Nothing to worry about then," Sirius said. "Just a pattern in the traffic control program. The same thing actually used to happen in the real world because people used computers to control the traffic lights."

"Wow, Sirius, I didn't realize you were that old," Harry quipped.

A grin broke out on Sirius's face. Harry was really fitting into their little group. "Read it in some 20th and 21st century fiction stories—"

Sirius was suddenly cut off from speaking as the sounds of loud barking filled the air. A pack of feral dogs leaped out of almost nowhere, coming from the dead end alley they had just passed. The barking dogs' jaws snapping at the trio menacingly. There were seven of the mutts, each a different breed of dog, but none of them small.

It was extremely odd. Dogs simply did not just attack a group of humans for no reason. Why would it be programmed in this way? But none of them had time to consider the implications. The dogs charged.

Harry reacted on instinct, spinning his body and lashing out with a kick towards the gray-furred hound that had leaped towards him. Compared to the speeds that Eon and Tonks attacked at, the dog might as well have been jumping in slow motion. Harry's kick smashed the animal in the ribs and knocked it through the air to crash into the alley wall with a whimper. Eon handled the pair of dogs that had jumped at him in a similar, but more efficient manner. His hand sliced down on one with a vicious chop, catching the animal in the back of the neck before immediately stepping forward and bringing the same hand to connect with the collarbone of the second animal and send it flying back the way it came.

And then there was a much louder, fiercer bark that froze the remaining dogs in place. Harry turned to see a great black dog standing between him, Eon, and the remaining four dogs, growling at the attacking canines. Those dogs began to yip, placing their tails between their legs. When the large black dog took several threatening steps forward and barked loudly, the pack of wild dogs scattered.

Harry stared at the big black dog. He remembered it. It was the exact same dog that had led him from the Dursleys to his first ill-fated encounter with Sirius. But where…

Harry watched as the black dog morphed before his eyes, the fur blurring away as it stood up on its hind legs, which suddenly thickened into the legs of a man. Sirius stood there with a grin on his face. "That's right," he said with a barking laugh. "I'm the ALPHA male."

"But…" Harry began, than stopped and looked back. "You're…you're an animagus!"

"Ani-_what-_is?" Sirius asked with a frown.

"Animagus," Eon answered before Harry. "A witch or wizard who can turn into an animal. One of the Hogwarts professors was one."

"Well, I don't know about being a wizard," Sirius said with a smirk, "but I can assure you I'm not a witch. I can turn back into a dog and you can check my gender if you want…"

"Um, no thanks, Sirius," Harry was quick to reply.

"Anyway, there, kid, I've been able to do that since before I was freed. I just always sort of identified with dogs, and I had a big black one just like the one I can turn into. Don't know how it happened, but one day I was rolling around with my dog and the next thing I knew I had turned into an exact copy of him."

"I'm guessing that's when you figured out you were in the Matrix?" Harry asked.

"Well, um, no. At first I thought I was stuck in a Disney movie. But I was freed shortly after that, and then it all made sense," Sirius admitted sheepishly. "Still, though, I've got the full code for the animal form in my head, and I can access it at will inside the digital world. Quite handy when sneaking around, as programs only check humans to see if they belong where they are. They assume any animal they come across will be a Program."

"But why were we attacked?" Harry asked. "It doesn't make any sense for a program to act that way."

Sirius shrugged. "Dunno, Harry. But we're not going to scrub this mission just because of an anomaly like this. It's too important."

Harry Potter looked at Sirius and then over to Eon and shrugged his shoulders. The rest of the way towards the Oracle, Harry had some things to think about. If Sirius could change into an animal, and Tonks could alter her appearance at will, then perhaps everyone at Hogwarts was there because they had an abnormal effect inside the Matrix. Perhaps Professor MacGonagal was trapped there as well. Maybe all of his friends were Potentials. Maybe he could free them all.

* * *

><p><em>00101100 00101100 00101100<em>

* * *

><p>After knocking on the door, Harry and Eon waited in the silent hallway of the nondescript apartment in which the Oracle was housed. According to Sirius, the Oracle never stayed in any one place long, always moving on to a new location every couple of weeks. In addition to the officially authorized Programs in the Matrix, there also some rogue programs, as well, some of which would harm the Oracle of they could. To see the Oracle, they had sent word to "her" ahead of time that they were coming. If she were there.<p>

Of course, everyone knew that "she" was really an "it" and not human at all. The Oracle was also a Program, but one that had helped to free many minds. It was something of an open secret that if humans from the outside wanted a specific insight into the Matrix, the Oracle would point the way. She also was very astute at judging the potential of freed minds to manipulate the Matrix code from within. She never directly worked against the Matrix architecture, but she didn't work against the humans on the outside who hacked in as most Programs would. It was part of her mission to help identify what the Programs had called a "systemic anomaly" and what those in Zion called The One. In a way, she was the unofficial liaison between humans and the AI.

A Jamaican woman answered the door. "She been 'specting you," the woman said, looking them over. "Come in and wait wit' de others."

The three walked into what amounted to a sitting room where several young children played together. Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked to each child. There was a difference in the way the threads of code connected to them than to other minds. Harry looked over to Eon. He had noticed it too.

"Sirius, I think we should pay attention to what happens to these kids. They're different," Eon said.

"Yes, they're all Potentials," Sirius nodded, "gathered from all over the Matrix to see what she makes of them." Then the captain looked at the two of them and frowned before continuing. "But it would be rude of us to try and track them or trace them from here. We get to come here and visit, but we can't tag any of these kids. Think of this place as being like Switzerland: perfectly neutral," Sirius explained. "Of course, if we later run across them and our facial recognition program identifies them, well, then, that would be perfectly fair," he added with a conspiratorial whisper that wasn't really a whisper at all.

Eon and Harry smiled together. They would remember each of these children.

"You," the Jamaican said, pointing to Eon, "you can go in. The o'der two, you will have ta wait here. The Oracle will not see yous today."

Harry's face fell. Maybe he wasn't special enough for the Oracle to want to see him?

Sirius initially frowned at this, but was going to go along with it, but as soon as Sirius saw Harry's crestfallen expression Sirius grabbed Harry's arm and pulled the younger boy behind him. Harry had worked too hard to be denied. When the door was opened for Eon to step through, Sirius barged in right behind. Sirius knew that once the door closed there was no telling if it would open again or not. Doors had a tendency to do that inside the Matrix. And he was not about to let anyone stop him from having Harry see the Oracle.

The Jamaican attendant tried to protest, but Sirius beat her to the punch.

"Now you hold on a minute, woman," Sirius growled, bristling at the lady with thick spectacles standing by a stove in what looked to be an ordinary kitchen. "Harry here has worked hard to be able to come to see you, and you're not going to brush him aside just like that! Oracle or not, you can't treat Harry that way!"

The Oracle looked over at Harry and then sighed. "Well, now that you're here, I guess it really can't be helped. Hello there, kiddo. I must say, Divinations class just isn't the same without you."

"Professor Trelawney?"

"In the flesh," she said with a smile, "or not, depending on how you want to look at it." Professor Trelawney, the Oracle, smiled at her attendant who then backed out of the room, eying Sirius with a touch of hostility.

"Wait, this is Professor Trelawney? The Hogwarts Divinations teacher and seer?" Eon asked.

"Bingo. I never did get a chance to have you in my class, Mr. Anderson. Or do you prefer to go by Eon, now?"

"Eon, if you don't mind."

"Wait, hang on here," Sirius spluttered. "You _both_ know the Oracle already?"

"Actually, I've known the two of them longer than you have, Mr. Black," she said with a smile. "Unfortunately, you choosing to come in here and bring young Harry with you when you did has…complicated matters. Had I foreseen you forcing your way in here, I probably would have decided not to be here at all. Would have made things a lot easier on all of us, I'm sure."

"I don't understand," Harry said. "How does this complicate matters? And why couldn't you predict what would happen?"

"I see you've forgotten some of your Divinations training, Mr. Potter. If you remember, we can only see through the decisions we understand. Mr. Black choosing to disregard my decision not to see the two of you simply because you made the face you did is quite fascinating, but not something I can yet grasp," the Oracle said with a smile. "I get it that your expression was adorably pitiful, but I never fathomed Sirius would be swayed by a mere look. But I'm afraid our time is quite short. No time to explore such matters. You came to me for a reason, didn't you?"

Sirius nodded, a bit off-balance from the turn of events. "Yes, it's about the special area 'here' these two are part of. The 'magic' school."

"And you want to know how these two fit into things, and why they are special," she said with a kind smile. "You're right to ask. But, I'm afraid I'm not really going to be able to help you answer those questions. I can tell you this, though, both Eon and Harry are Potentials, and strong ones. I was going to tell Eon that he _could_ be the One, but…"

"But what?" Eon asked.

"Well, I was going to just leave it out there like that and let you fill in the answer. And whatever the answer you gave, that would have been right. Since we don't have time for that sort of thing, though, I'll just say you need to wake yourself up, and then you'll be something else. You have the Gift, just like Harry, perhaps even more so. Which is why you were brought to Hogwarts in the first place."

"But Harry was always better than me at magic. I could barely get anything to work at all."

"Yes, there is that," Trelawney said with a frown. "The two of you have different purposes; that's one of the few things about that boy that is perfectly clear."

"What do you mean by that," Sirius asked.

"I'm afraid, Mr. _Sirius_ Black, that all I can say is that we're all here to do what we're all here to do."

"Then what am I here to do?" Harry asked. He hadn't noticed how still Sirius and Eon had gone after the Oracle had just spoken.

* * *

><p><em>00101101 00101101 00101101<em>

* * *

><p>Remus cursed to himself. He could see the code flash and change. An alert had gone up a short while ago but it was just now filtering onto his screen. Too late to warn them in time. And where were Eon, Harry, and Sirius? They had just disappeared. He called up Tonks with a touch of the button. "Tonks, something has gone wrong. They've cut the hard line. You're going to need to get out of there and find a new Exit. I'll give you instructions as soon as you're—damn. They're already outside your hallway and moving in."<p>

Tonks swore. She quickly scooped up her equipment and placed it in a bag. If she got out of there she would need it at the next Exit point and there wouldn't be a chance to load it back in. There was a noise just outside the the door. She didn't have much time here, either. It would take the Machines little time at all to override the lockout she had placed on the lock.

The door to the room splintered open and several armed men burst into the room firing their weapons.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Expect the next update in the next couple days. The chapter was just getting too long._


	12. Chapter 12: Visit to the Oracle Part II

**Chapter 12: A Visit to the Oracle- Part II**

* * *

><p><em>00101111 00101111 00101111<em>

* * *

><p>"That's the right question for you to ask, Harry, but I'm afraid that's something only you can really answer," the Oracle continued serenely, ignoring the look on Sirius and Eon's faces.<p>

"Harry, we've got to go," Sirius said coldly. "We've been given away. We have just a couple minutes before the Agents arrive."

Harry blinked. Then he realized it. She had said Sirius's name.

Professor Trelawney continued to stand there smiling. "Actually, I'm afraid once Harry stepped foot inside this place you were given away. Once I saw him, I was _obligated_ to report it. We suspected you had survived, Harry, but until you confirmed it by letting me get a look at you, there really wasn't anything anyone could do."

Sirius gave the Oracle a betrayed look and started heading out the door. Eon and Harry followed, but before they got to the exit, Harry turned around to face his former professor once more. "If you alerted them that we were here as soon as we walked in, then why the warning now? Why did you use a name you knew we would be aware was being tracked and let _us_ know Agents were coming for us?"

Trelawney, the Oracle, smiled and sighed. "You do ask the tough questions, don't you, kid? It could be that I'm trying to give you a chance to escape. Or maybe I'm trying to make it look that way. Or perhaps my safety is too important to risk in a confrontation right here in my kitchen and I'm just making sure that when you all do get killed, it happens somewhere else. Who knows?"

"Those stop lights," Harry said. "And the dogs. Those were your doing, weren't they? Warning us away."

"Ah, well, who can say what someone like me does or doesn't cause to happen. But then, if I did something like that, I would have known you would ignore those signs, wouldn't I? And I could have put them there to give me credibility with your side if any of you managed to escape. And maybe if I keep talking here with you I can delay you longer so that the Agents coming up the elevator can get to you before you can leave."

That caused the three of them to hurry out the door. But then Sirius turned back and gave a single nod towards the Oracle. Whatever side she was playing, it was a fine line to walk.

* * *

><p><em>00110000 00110000 00110000<em>

* * *

><p>A single soldier walked out of the hotel room Tonks had been in. Four had entered. The soldier held a weapon up in a sort of salute and glanced at the others waiting just outside the door. "She got three of us before going out the window."<p>

The waiting soldiers nodded, several of them turning to run down the hall to try to join the pursuit. One of them went in to inspect the damage. They were specially trained for taking down dangerous criminals like these. But they had been warned not to underestimate their quarry. Usually they would be accompanied by the black suited federal Agents. They were cold, dangerous, and almost inhuman, but they were extremely well trained. Much better to have the Agents than not. But this time the agents had instructed their group to make the hit while the Agents and another team went after a second target, a higher priority.

The soldier who had left the hotel room quickly ran over to the staircase opposite the direction the other soldiers had gone. It was an empty stairwell. All other exits had been covered, but this one, oddly enough, had been overlooked. Quickly, the solider pushed the door open and ran down stairs.

Back in the hotel room, the soldier who had gone in to inspect things saw the crumpled forms of his team mates. These were very dangerous criminals. Their training claimed they were almost inhumanely strong and fast. Two of the soldiers had had broken necks and one also had a caved-in chest, a third had bullet wounds in his head and torso. It was gruesome. And then the soldier spotted the _fourth_ body in the bathroom where it had been tossed aside and stripped of its uniform.

The soldier on the stairwell exited the stairs on the fourth floor. Only then did Tonks let her face and hair revert to her own natural form. She purposefully walked through to an empty guest room, kicked the door down, and headed to the outside window. It was simple from there to drop down the four flights of stairs and land on the ground outside.

Only when she was a couple blocks away, walking quickly, but not hurriedly away, did she speak into the mouthpiece of her cellular phone. "Operator, I need an Exit."

* * *

><p><em>00110001 00110001 00110001<em>

* * *

><p>Harry, Sirius, and Eon ran down two flights of stairs in the apartment building before exiting the stairwell to find an alternate way down. Sirius had Remus on the line.<p>

"What happened?" Remus demanded as soon as they were connected. "We lost your signal as soon as you stepped into the Oracle's apartment."

"The Oracle reported our presence as soon as she saw Harry, but then warned us to leave. But now's not the time to discuss this. We need directions."

"There are soldiers in the building coming for you two floors up and eight floors down covering all stairwells, elevators, and fire escapes. There are two Agents coming up the elevators on the east end of the building. The southwest stairwell has the smallest team, but they are nearly up to your level."

"And Tonks?"

"She was compromised, but got out of there. She managed to avoid detection leaving the building and is heading to 68th Street to prep the backup Exit."

"Understood," Sirius answered crisply, leading the way towards the west end of the building and the south stairwell.

Harry felt nearly nauseous with nervousness. This was real. The danger they were in was serious. It was a wonder his hands weren't trembling. But then he remembered. This was his digital self. Trembling was a purely _physical_ manifestation of the muscles involuntarily responding to the body's physiology. In here, his body would respond to his mind. If his mind was clear, his virutal would perform as it should.

"Eon, you go in first. I'll follow. Harry, you have the rear. If you have a shot, don't hesitate to kill. It's them or us," Sirius instructed.

Eon pushed the stairwell door open and jumped through. Eon's eyes took in the entire stairwell even as he moved through the air. There were four of them, each with automatic weapons pointed towards the entryway. As his momentum carried him to the first landing, he saw two of their weapons move to track him, firing their guns in bursts into the air just behind him. The one on the opposite wall was still aiming for the doorway.

The solid feel of the 9mm Beretta in his hands was the only indication that he had drawn his weapons. Eon's mind calculated the distance between himself and his target, the angle of the shots that would need to be fired, and even the speed at which the bullets would travel all within the blink of an eye. It was all just part of the code in the program. The black-clad young man silently sent a prayer for the soul of the soldier he was about to shoot. And then he pulled the trigger. Once. Twice. '_Now you're free_,' he thought as the final benediction.

He had no time for any further philosophical contemplation. For now, they were the enemy and they would be better dead than trapped as slaves. As soon as his feet touched the floor of the landing, Eon kicked off and jumped up to run along the side of the wall, moving ahead of their line of fire and bringing the second soldier still aiming towards the doorway into his sights. Eon calmly fired again, taking out the second threat before dropping down off the wall and tucking into a somersault as he hit the stairs. The sound of weapons fire biting into the railing just behind where he had rolled indicated the precision of their aim. They were good, but too slow.

That was when the bark of shots from above joined those of the automatic weapons. A stain of blood blossomed on the chest of one of the soldiers firing on Eon, and that soldier slumped to the floor. The last soldier on the team frantically tried to bring his weapon up to fire on Sirius, who had followed Eon through, but that was a mistake. In the time it took for the man to switch his aim, Eon managed to descend the remaining stairs and crack him a blow to the head with a kick. The black clad young adult landed gracefully beside the fallen soldier. Seconds later, he was joined by Sirius, and then Harry.

Harry stared wide-eyed at the dead soldiers. It had all happened so fast. And yet, he could follow it all. Even the bullets flying through the air seemed sluggish in their movements.

The trio hurried down ten more flights of stairs, leaving the stairwell on the second floor. From there it was easy enough to kick down the door of an apartment, head to the outside window, and jump down the rest of the way. With Remus feeding them information, they made it away from the building before anyone pursuing them could spot them.

Sirius was leading them away from the apartment complex the Oracle had been in at a brisk pace, but they were still within earshot of the place. Harry looked to his left. There were a couple of elderly Mugg—people on the ground floor of their apartment looking out their windows to the streets outside, wondering what was going on. Harry could see the surprise in their elderly faces as they looked at him. Harry was sure it wasn't too often they saw three people dressed the way they were with matching sunglasses just outside on the sidewalk outside their home, Harry guessed.

He turned to say something to Sirius and Eon when the sound of glass breaking brought his attention back to the house they were just passing. To his shock, there were two tall men in black business suits where the elderly couple had just been. These men wore sunglasses similar to those he and the other crewmembers wore. And they were all but flying out of the window towards them. **Agents**.

One of the things that had been impressed upon Harry during his training sessions was that fighting against Agents was suicide. There was a 95% fatality rate for anyone who engaged an Agent in physical combat. They were programmed to be stronger, faster, and more durable than what a human could possibly be. And even in the unlikely event a hacker managed to kill an Agent, the Agent would simply just jack into another slave body and return. Worst of all, Agents had become aware that simply killing a hacker in the Matrix no longer ensured their death. So, they had started to get really nasty. While they fought you within the rules of the Matrix world, they also used that interaction to attack the mind with digital neural viruses. Each strike they landed was an opportunity for them to attempt to scramble your mind. Death at the hands of an Agent, or from their weapons, resulted in a 75% fatality rate back in the real world, and a much increased chance of permanent brain damage if the hacker was lucky enough to revive afterwards.

The suggested course of action was to run.

But an Agent had just tackled Eon, and the second Agent had come between Sirius and himself. There was no way Harry would ever abandon his crewmates. He would much rather die than to do that.

And that was how Harry Potter found himself in hand-to-hand combat with an Agent for the first time. Fortunately for him, he was not alone. Sirius attacked from one side, while Harry attacked from the other, timing their attacks together to the best of their abilities. The black suited man was fast. Faster than Tonks. He blocked the punches and kicks from both Harry and Sirius at seemingly the same time. He even had time to make idle conversation during the attack.

"Mr. Black," the Agent said with an expressionless face. "It is so nice to see you again."

Sirius grunted with effort, but had enough breath to shoot back his own retort, "Yes, it's been far too long. Aren't you the one I shot in the knee cap a few years ago?"

"That was an older model," the Agent said without a twinge of emotion. "And the _human_ you shot still walks with a limp."

"You know," Sirius said, after attempting a foot sweep while Harry arced his kick up towards the Program's head, "I would feel bad about that if it was his real leg I had shot and not a simulation. By the way, _nice_ attempt at psychological warfare. You're really starting to get a hang of all these human emotions. And sarcasm."

Harry was concentrating on his martial arts. He'd work on injecting witty banter into combat later, when his life wasn't in jeopardy. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, even though he knew it wasn't really a heart. He kicked high, only to be caught by a punch from Agent and knocked backwards. As he stumbled back, the world around him flickered.

* * *

><p><em>00110001 00110001 00110001<em>

* * *

><p>Alastor saw a spike on Harry's interference monitor. Luckily, it wasn't the boy's heart rate, although that was elevated, too. Whatever was going on in there, the boy was still alive. But the rate of interference they had detected in Harry had suddenly shot way up, which was a cause for concern.<p>

"Remus, we're getting interference on Harry's line again. Still within tolerable levels for the buffer we've set up, but…" Alastor used the open com-system to communicate with Remus who was in the control room Operating.

Remus didn't want to contemplate what would happen if they had a repeat of what occurred during the practices and training with the interference shutting down electrical systems. The entire computer network had been affected. If that happened while they were actually jacked into the Matrix instead of locally within the Construct it would be worse. They had done the best they could, outfitting Harry with a monitor and attaching the wand-shaped metal rod to his body, but there was still a level of interference when Harry jacked in. If the machines went down while he was in there, he would probably die.

Of course, at the moment Remus was more concerned about the Agents that were attacking the group in the virtual world.

* * *

><p><em>00110011 00110011 00110011<em>

* * *

><p>Eon had never fought anyone who moved as fast as the Agent he was battling. The "man" had taunted him, calling him "Mr. Anderson" and acting as if he knew his life. Of course, that didn't really bother him, the attempt to throw him off-balance was wasted effort. Eon was comfortable with whom he had become. The punches the Agent were landing, however, were not at all comfortable. Eon could feel the force of each blow, but worse, he could sense the attempt the Program was making to alter the simulation of his brain. And that simulation would feed directly back into his physical mind. The black-haired teen knew he would need to move faster if he wanted to survive.<p>

So he moved faster. If the Machine could do it, so could he.

The next punch the Agent threw, Eon countered with a block from the outside that knocked the Program's fist harmlessly wide and inside, where it couldn't be used to defend. Without retracting his arm, the young man converted the block into a strike, seamlessly flowing from one form to the other, allowing his palm to impact the corner of the Agent's eye. The "man" in the business suit staggered back from the blow, his sunglasses cracked. That was his first solid blow against the Program, but it caused the artificial intelligence to reassess the fight, dropping back to consider its opponent. Eon stole a glance over to where Sirius and Harry were taking on the other Agent. They were doing okay, but were clearly having a harder time with their Agent than he was with his. Eon knew he needed a way to end this fight so he could help them and then they could escape.

Harry had leapt back to his feet and re-engaged the Agent as quickly as he could after he had been knocked down. It was a good thing he had recovered so quickly, because Sirius was having a lot of trouble holding his ground against the much faster and much stronger Agent without Harry there to back him up, even for the short time Harry had been out of the fight. Luckily, the Program's style was completely conservative, waiting in a straight up boxing stance for the opponent to make a mistake and overextend. Then the Program would respond with an efficient punch or kick that felt like a steel I-Beam smashing into you, but it was not aggressive enough to really make Sirius pay for Harry's short absence.

Unfortunately, Sirius was not particularly gifted at hand to hand combat. He knew all the moves and techniques and had good spatial awareness, but he had difficulty going beyond some mental limitation of what he could believe himself to be capable of. This was why when Harry charged in and launched a spinning back kick towards the Agent, forcing the Program to dodge right, Sirius was unable to move fast enough to take advantage. It was also why when the program blocked Sirius's punch and launched a kick back his way he was too slow in reacting to block or get out of the way. The blow lifted the hovership captain off the ground and sent him backwards at least fifteen meters.

"You are just too human, Mr. Black," the Agent taunted. "Your defeat is inevitable."

Sirius had to admit that in a hand-to-hand competition that he was certain to lose. He just was not good enough to beat Tonks or Eon, let alone an Agent. The thing Sirius was good at, though, was marksmanship. In the simulations, nobody was better than the captain at anticipating where a target would be or shooting while in motion. Harry had witnessed Sirius in target practice, firing on the run, while jumping across buildings, and even while doing back-flips. Sirius had amazing accuracy even under those conditions. Harry noticed the characteristic twist of Sirius's body while in mid-air and knew the man was drawing his twin Mac-10 submachine guns even as he fell. He was ready to move when Sirius landed.

Harry Potter sent a hard kick towards the Program, knowing his opponent would block it. The youngest crewmember of the _Lupin_ bent his leg as he went into the kick rather than keeping it straight, using the force of the block to spring away from his opponent. Normally, this would leave him at a disadvantage, in retreat, but in this case what he needed was distance from the Agent. Harry landed in a roll and came up with his .45 caliber Desert Eagle training down on the approaching enemy.

As soon as his feet touch the ground, both of the muzzles of Sirius's machine-pistols opened up on full-auto, spraying the entire area the Agent was in with a hail of bullets as it made its taunt. But despite the near perfect accuracy of the ship captain's aim, the Agent was dodging each projectile. Its entire body was a blur of motion, leaning from one side to the other to avoid the pattern of bullets even as Sirius adjusted his aim. At first the motion was hard for Harry to follow, bullets and Agent just an indistinct blurring. But then after that first initial moment, he focused, and saw the motion slow down to a crawl. The Agent was just barely managing to keep ahead of the attack, each motion to avoid one bullet forcing it to immediately dodge and bend another direction to avoid the next one.

Without knowing how he did it, Harry analyzed the pattern of the bullets and predicted the Agent's dodging moves. It was as if he had access to some external resource to calculate the speeds, velocities, and angles, and even predict the next moves. After the moment of calculation was complete Harry lifted his own weapon and fired three times, the bullets moving in three specific trajectories. Somehow, the Agent sensed the bullets tracking in from behind him, and at the last second turned to the side to avoid them.

Just as Harry had anticipated. The Agent could avoid his shots, but then had no way of avoiding the next series of shots from Sirius. A line of bullets ripped into the Agent's shoulder, and side, forcing the Program's form to turn back into the rest of Sirius's attack. The Agent fell, his body shredded by automatic weapon fire. There was a sudden crackle of electricity, and then the body of the Agent became that of the elderly man that Harry had seen earlier. The man was dead. But at least he was free now.

Eon was still fighting with the other Agent. After he had landed his first blow, the Agent's speed had literally doubled. But, so too had Eon's. And while the Agent had a rather fixed stance, Eon flowed from one to the next, keeping the Agent off-balance and unable to press any attack. The Agent attempted to strike with a straight jab, turning his shoulder to increase the damage, but Eon's hands flowed into block the strike like water, enveloping the Program's forearm and pushing the punch wide to the right while Eon's body moved within its stance to the left. Then the young hacker spun his entire body around into a completely different form, launching a twisting aerial kick that the Agent tried to absorb with its chest, but was blasted backwards with the force of the blow.

Despite his clear advantage in skill, Eon knew simply punching or kicking the Agent would not end the fight. He had to damage it. Damage it in a way that it could not simply ignore.

It had to be more than just a physical blow.

Without giving the Agent time to gather itself, Eon charged towards it, jumping up into the air impossibly fast, hanging in the air impossibly long. Legs pumping furiously underneath the flowing black trench coat, Eon rained a staggering series of kicks towards the beleaguered Agent. Eon was moving impossibly fast, beyond what the physics protocol was supposed to allow. And then he landed, simultaneously striking with three quick chops to the Program's face, alternating left and right hands. As the third blow landed with his left, Eon's right speared straight ahead like a dagger. His hand plunged into the Agent's body.

There was no blood. The Agent stood there, transfixed, as Eon's hand entered its core. The hand piercing its physical form was painless, but paralyzing. Any damage great enough to do what Eon was doing should have terminated the Program's connection to its current host wet-ware, but strangely this attack froze the Agent program in place. What was truly shocking was that a human was hacking into it, ripping through the layers and layers of encryption in fractions of a second, paralyzing it, and overwriting it. If it had been programmed to know fear, it would show it now.

Harry and Sirius looked on in fascination. Eon was standing there with a hand stuck in the Agent, as if Eon's hand and the Agent's body had merged into one form. It was—

_**CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!**_

The three sounds occurred within moments of each other. Along with the sounds came the appearance of three black-robed men carrying short pointed sticks. The three were spread out around the site of the battle in strategic places.

Sirius reacted first, spinning to try to face the one about six meters behind him. Harry attempted to do the same, though he started his move almost a full second after Sirius began to turn. They were both much too slow. And Eon was stuck in place with his hands full.

"_**Expelliarmus**_!" came the twin cries of the aurors who had appeared on the street behind Sirius and Harry.

Sirius's submachine guns flew from his hands even as he was attempting to fire them. Harry hadn't even begun to bring his weapon in line with the robed wizard behind him when his Desert Eagle flew from his hand.

"Ah, Sirius Black," the auror who had disarmed him said smirking. "At last the Ministry has found you. You could not hide from us forever."

"That's…Harry Potter!" the auror behind Harry said recognizing him. "But…he was supposed to be dead…killed by Black!"

Harry recognized the wizard who had the drop on him as well. He had been a Seventh Year when Harry had first entered Hogwarts School, Head Boy of Gryffindor House, Peter Pettigrew. Everyone knew he had gotten a top position in the Ministry as an auror-trainee.

"Run, Harry! Eon! Get to the Exit." Sirius yelled as he made a diving tackle towards the black-robed man behind him, moving much faster than a human ought to be able to. He didn't expect to be able to defeat all three, but he hoped he could create enough of a distraction for the other two to get to safety rather than be disconnected.

"_**Stupefy**_!" the wizard spoke, aiming his wand at the captain of the _Lupin_. A red beam of light lanced out and struck the man, and Sirius fell to the ground senseless. "Thompson, stun the other one. Pettigrew, place Mr. Potter under the Imperius. The Headmaster will want to speak to him."

There was a flash of red light and Eon tumbled to the ground, his hand dropping away from the Agent. A flash of electricity coursed over the body of the Agent and it reverted to the form of the old woman Harry had seen earlier. She tumbled to the ground as well. Not dead, but unconscious.

Harry's heart beat faster. He was alone. Fear, anger, and shock warred within him. For a moment, the world went out of focus for Harry. To all those present, and still conscious, it appeared that he _flickered_.

"What was that?" Pettigrew asked nervously.

"Accidental magic," the lead auror replied. "Now, do as you're told."

Peter Pettigrew pointed his wand at Harry and spoke the curse he was only allowed to use when authorized by a senior auror. "_**Imperio**_!"

Harry's body went rigid, and then suddenly relaxed. A smile was suddenly on is face. There was a flash of white and suddenly Harry found himself back in a white void surrounded by nothingness. Somewhere in the back of his thoughts was the idea that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

* * *

><p><em>00110100 00110100 00110100<em>

* * *

><p>"Oh no," Remus mouthed, staring at his screen in horror. All three had been caught. The three new Agents, or whatever they were, had just appeared out of nowhere. And then the signal from Sirius and Eon had gone unresponsive. It would be suicide to attempt to bring Tonks in as well. Now the best they could hope for would be a clean disconnection. And no death or brain damage.<p>

"Remus!" Alastor called out gruffly from the interface bay through the com-system. "Something's off with Harry's readings. A moment ago there was a severe spike in the interference. And now something else is up. I've never seen anything like it."

Shaq, who had joined with Alastor as soon as trouble had been reported, looked over at Harry's prone form with sorrow. So young to face the possibility of death. Then Shaq looked at the boy's brain wave patterns. "Looks like they're trying to hack his mind. But it's a technique I've never seen before. It's like he's partially disconnected. And it's happening fast. Too fast."

"I think Shaq's got it right. It's only a matter of time before they turn that brain-hack technique on Sirius as well," Alastor reported to Remus.

At the moment, Remus hated being second-in-command of the _Lupin_. He was faced with a terrible choice. He had to order the three of them unplugged. They should be able to survive, but with the state they were in, there was a high chance of brain damage.

"Unplug Harry first," Remus ordered. He hated having promised the boy that everything would be fine and then have to order him unplugged. And of the three, Harry was the one most likely to have trauma because of the brain hacking. Which was why he needed to be disconnected without delay.

Alastor moved over to the connection cable between the broadcast computer and Harry Potter's head. He put his hand on the plug.

"WAIT!" Remus's voice broke from the control room in over the com speaker. Alastor hesitated. "Something's happening!" Remus all but shouted.

He was right. The signal on Harry's brainwaves had suddenly reverted back to normal. He was awake and back in control.

* * *

><p><em>00110101 00110101 00110101<em>

* * *

><p>Harry's consciousness floated in the white void. Within the void there was no sense of time or distance. There was little sense of anything. Including self.<p>

There was just a flicker of alarm within that void. Harry knew he was in the Matrix. This was a digital version of his mind, he knew. So, what had happened to the digital world? Why couldn't he sense it?

With that question, Harry's mind recalled the events just before it recalled being in the void. He remembered the fight with the Agents and the appearance of the aurors. He remembered Pettigrew and the Imperius curse. He remembered Sirius and Eon stunned and insensate.

The alarm within him increased. He was trapped in his own mind. He needed to see what was going on. He needed to be able to move. But he had no hands or legs to move with. No eyes to see with. Of course, he scolded himself. This was a simulation. Harry thought deeper, seeking out the symbols that comprised the Matrix code. The whiteness faded away, replaced by a torrent _OFF, ON, ON, OFF, ON, ON_. And then Harry's mind came to grips with it once more.

Harry opened his digital eyes. He was standing just a few meters away from Pettigrew. There was a link between Pettigrew and himself. Commands were flowing through the link. Commands meant to tell his body how to move and how to act. They said to follow. Harry didn't like the idea of obeying the commands, but he did want to move closer.

Harry took three slow steps forward. It was enough to get him within range. Against the commands he was being issued, Harry shot forward, bending his knees down into a crouch and slapping a harsh chop into Pettigrew's corpulent stomach. The auror doubled over, eyes wide open in surprise. It was but a split second before Harry wrested the man's wand away from him and then knocked him out with a chop to the back of the neck.

But Harry was unarmed and the other two aurors were just too far away to hope to get them with martial arts. So, he did what he had been trained to do at the wizard school.

Harry pointed the Pettigrew's wand at the auror near Sirius. "Stop where you are," Harry commanded.

The auror turned and regarded Harry coolly. The boy who had been a wizard saw the code representing the auror. It was the code of a program, not a trapped mind as Pettigrew was. The man, the Program, spoke with a sneer. "What are you going to Potter, throw a stick at me? You know a wand only works for the wizard it is made for. Your attempt at resistance is futile."

"You know," Harry said looking partly at the wand and partly at the auror, "you're right. The wand _will_ only work for the person it was made for. But," Harry said, his eyes narrowing so that he could see the code around the wand, and then within it, "what if I make the wand think that I am Pettigrew?"

It took less than a second for Harry to do it. The layers of encryption were quite simple for him to penetrate. He found the sequence the wand required before it would activate, and sent that code into the object. Then he pointed the wand at the auror standing next to Eon.

"_**STUPEFY**_!" he called out. That auror crumpled to the ground. The head auror, still standing near Sirius, pointed his wand as well, but Harry was faster. Almost as fast as thought. "_**Expelliarmus**_!" The auror's wand flew from his hand. There was a sudden flickering and warping sensation as Harry exerted his will through the wand.

Harry saw the still forms of Sirius and Eon. He looked beyond the form and into the code. There was a block to their consciousness, but the block was easily undone. They had taught him how to do exactly that at Hogwarts. "_Ennervate_," Harry whispered twice, and the pair pulled themselves up from the ground.

The auror looked at Harry in a good simulation of surprise, seemingly unperturbed at being disarmed. "That is not supposed to be possible. How are you doing this?" it demanded.

"Good question, Harry," Sirius agreed, rubbing his head with one hand. The other hand was slipping beneath his jacket to grasp a handgun. "How did you do that?" Sirius was _quite_ perturbed at having been knocked unconscious earlier.

"Well," Harry began sheepishly, "I did—"

The auror made a sudden motion, pointing his fingers towards Harry and muttering a spell. Harry's attention quickly turned back to the auror and he broke off his explanation mid-sentence, instead aiming his wand at the suddenly moving Program.

"_**IMPERIO**_!" Harry shouted at exactly the same time as the auror.

There was a sudden sensation of the world flying apart, warping away, and then returning to its normal state. To say it was disconcerting would be putting it very mildly. But Harry maintained his focus.

There was a battle of wills between the auror Program and Harry Potter. Eon could see the flow of code between the two of them, each of them trying to hack through the other's defenses. It was several seconds of real time before the body of the auror went rigid, its eyes opened in shock. And then it went slack.

"What was that a minute ago?" Eon finally asked after Harry gained control of the auror. "It was like the whole world disappeared."

"You felt it too?" Harry asked.

Sirius confirmed with a nod.

"But the auror seemed unaffected," Harry said with a frown. "Seemed like it was only us who even noticed what happened…"

"Harry, we have to go. Now!" Sirius ordered, once again receiving information from Remus. "We need to get to Tonks before—"

The sound of gunfire erupted from behind them. Harry turned to see a group of soldiers advancing, firing on their position. Standing with them was the Agent that Sirius had just gunned down earlier, pointing its gun and aiming carefully. He had taken one of the soldiers' places and come back for some AI revenge.

There was no time to run. If it had only been the soldiers, they might have been able to make it. But with the Agent with them, it would be impossible. They would be cornered and killed. Or worse, captured again.

There was no way Harry was going to let that happen. By now, Sirius and Eon had moved together, just a couple steps away from Harry. Harry Potter dashed those steps and took his crewmates by the arm. "Sirius, think of where Tonks is," he said.

Even while Sirius thought of protesting, the thought of where the backup Exit would be came to his mind.

_**CRACK!**_

Around half a kilometer away in a Starbucks coffee house, Tonks sat on a comfortable seat sipping on a latté next to her computer which was set up and plugged into a data port. She looked perfectly calm and normal, but her heart was racing. She witnessed everything that had gone on for the past 5 minutes from her screen.

She almost screamed when Harry, Sirius, and Eon suddenly appeared right beside her with a loud _**CRACK**_. "Bloody hell!" she cried out in shock.

"Curse later," Sirius ordered, "get us out of here now."


	13. Chapter 13: Course Correction

**Author's Note: **_Sorry for the long delay. Been dealing with some health issues that has really just taken the energy right out of me. I fully intend to get back to writing now that I'm feeling a bit better. Happy Holidays to everyone!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13: Course Correction<br>**

* * *

><p><em>00110110 00110110 00110110<em>

* * *

><p>Remus anxiously disconnected the needle from the back of Sirius's head, his eyes darting up to the monitor displaying the captain's brain scan, green lines on black screen oscillating in arcs according to his oldest friend's brain activity. He let out a sigh of relief as the display showed normal activity and Sirius opened his eyes then began extracting himself from the inclined chair on which he had been lying. Next to them, Tonks and Eon were already up, stretching out their neck and shoulder muscles, which were always stiff after the lengthy inactivity that hacking into the Matrix required.<p>

"How's Harry?" Sirius asked with a touch of concern.

"He's just coming out now," Alastor responded with a gruff voice. "Kid was something else in there, wasn't he?" he added with a bit of amazement.

Sirius gave a roguish grin and puffed out his chest in faux braggadocio, "And I found him! I must say, I have the best recruiting skills in the entire fleet!"

Tonks gave a 'hmph' and shot Sirius a superior look. "Oh no, Sirius, **I'm** the one who found Harry while you had your sight set on Eon here." She patted Eon on the arm and then flounced past the captain over towards where Harry was still lying down.

"Ah, but I recruited you and I planned the mission to free Eon, so, _ergo,_ all the credit you earn goes back to me," Sirius retorted with a smirk. But the smirk faded a bit as he looked over at Harry's still prone form. "Is there anything wrong there, Alastor?" Harry should have awakened by now.

The older man grunted, his prosthetic leg tapping hard against the ground as he stepped over to a control console next to Harry. His visage grew perplexed as he stared at the screen. "You'd better get over here, Captain," he said. "I've never seen anything like this before."

"What is it?" Remus asked, joining the two veterans by Harry's table.

"Harry's consciousness has returned to his physical body, but the program safety protocols won't release him to wake up because there's still unused information in the buffer. And whatever it is, it's massive, several terabytes large," Alastor explained.

Sirius frowned. "The first thing we need to do is make sure Harry is okay. Then we can figure out whatever it is that's in the buffer. Would disabling the safety protocol damage Harry? He wouldn't wake up with half a mind or anything would he?"

Remus analyzed the data in the buffer as well as Harry's readings. "I can't say for certain, but it seems like whatever it is there, it isn't actually part of Harry's mind. It's something separate. Overriding the safety protocol shouldn't hurt him."

"Do it," Sirius ordered, moving to Harry's side to watch him.

Several seconds later, Harry's eyes opened and the smooth metal data probe was removed from the back of his head. The young man's green eyes quickly took in the concerned looks of everyone around him and sat up. "What's going on?"

"Are you feeling alright, Harry?" Sirius asked with sincere concern in his voice.

"Yeah, I feel fine," Harry replied. "Got a stiff neck, though."

Remus let out a breath. "You gave us a bit of a scare there, Harry. There was a little abnormality with your exit and reintegration."

"Bah," Alastor scoffed, "he's a tough lad. You two are getting all soft and motherly over this for nothing. Harry's not about to let a programming glitch keep him down, are ya lad?"

Harry grinned at the grizzled veteran. "No way."

Moments later, Harry found himself in a crushing hug. "Don't you scare me like that again, Harry Potter," Tonks scolded as she buried her face in his shoulder. "Next time we do this you better get up off your arse without all the drama!"

* * *

><p><em>00110111 00110111 00110111<em>

* * *

><p>Professor McGonagall hitched up her robes as she approached the stone gargoyle statues. She felt extremely ill at ease disturbing the Headmaster, but the strange man dressed in a white business suit behind her was insistent. "Banana Milkshake," she ordered and the statues leapt aside to reveal the stairwell leading up to the headmaster's office.<p>

"Come in, Minerva," came Dumbledore's cheerful voice before she had even knocked on the door.

"Albus, there is a man from…"

"Yes, Minerva, I am aware and have been expecting him. Please see him in and then you are dismissed to attend to your other duties," the aged wizard said amiably.

"But, Alb— " The Transfiguration professor choked off after a moment, a bit taken aback by the dismissal as well as all the other oddities about the day. First the strange, cold man, wearing what was obviously Muggle clothing, appeared on the doorstep. The man had been escorted to the castle by none other than the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Then this strange man in white had demanded an immediate meeting with Albus Dumbledore. And now she had been dismissed from the room without ceremony, as if she weren't the Deputy Headmistress of the school. Not that she didn't trust Albus to know what was best without always having her opinion; it was just one of those odd times where she felt like she was being left out of the loop. But that was how Dumbledore was sometimes. It was like he always knew everything that was going on and even some things that were about to happen, but kept it all to himself.

With a sigh, she nodded and turned to leave. Surely, Albus would know best.

Dumbledore watched as the Deputy Headmistress closed the door. He flicked a finger towards the door, causing it to melt into the wall and disappear. He had no difficulty identifying the figure that had entered his office, his appearance and presence was unmistakable. Immediately, the kindly smile that had been plastered on his face dropped and his face and eyes became nearly expressionless. "What is it you have to communicate?" Dumbledore asked his visitor. He knew that the Program known as the Architect had little use for the veneer of social pleasantries, despite being thoroughly acquainted with them.

The "man" standing before Dumbledore answered in a near monotone, but with a cultured polish that invoked a feeling of intelligence and refinement. "It has been confirmed that the anomaly designated as Harry Potter did indeed survive the extraction attempt by the Humans and has subsequently re-entered the Matrix." The white-suited man paused, "The anomaly's foray into the Matrix was initiated concurrent with the incursion of prime target designee Sirius Black, anomaly designee John Anderson, and an unidentified fourth Human. This unanticipated confluence of radical factors has given rise to unexpected divarication within the Matrix command subroutines; concordantly, the joint-efforts of our Agents proved inadequate to preclude their egress."

"So they escaped."

"Indeed," the Architect answered levelly. "Unfortunately, this event has revealed an unacceptable level of risk in the continued interaction of these elements. Something must be done."

Dumbledore regarded his counterpart coolly as their eyes met, information and details flowing between them at a rate that made their previous conversation entirely redundant. The use of the voice to speak was a terribly inefficient process compared to methods Programs had at their disposal. Nevertheless, they were bound by the rules they had created for Program interaction within the virtual world of the Matrix, even while alone. He already knew what the Architect was requesting, but the protocols required a verbalization of the request.

"It is, ironically, the very traits that make them so dangerous to the System that also make Mr. Potter and Mr. Anderson so valuable to our endeavors."

"Indubitably," the Architect conceded with a nod. "However, with them outside of our control, they represent an unacceptable level of threat."

"And now you want my permission to pursue young Harry on the Outside."

The Architect nodded. "You have already re-assigned full permissions to me on anomaly John Anderson, but anomaly Harry Potter still remains entirely within your domain."

A frown found its way onto the Headmaster's face. "While I understand the concern you have and admit that it is valid, I cannot in good conscience give you full permissions to deal with Harry." Dumbledore lifted a hand to forestall his counterpart's rebuttal. "However, I will give you all the necessary permissions to pursue and deal with Harry as needed. If at all possible, I want him back at this school. He is far too important to our mission to be completely written off until it becomes absolutely necessary."

The Architect nodded. "I will ensure that all efforts are made to acquire the anomaly for Reinsertion without harm. However, if the opportunity to capture him arises and the only options are termination or allowing him to make yet another escape, our Agents will terminate the subject."

Dumbledore nodded, "Agreed."

* * *

><p><em>00110111 00110111 00110111<em>

* * *

><p>Remus stared at his monitor in consternation. He had never encountered an encryption system as complex as the one he was trying to break. How and why the data had gotten lodged in the buffer of Harry's data probe was a mystery. Remus had never heard of anything like this happening before.<p>

"What are you doing, Remus?" Harry's voice came from behind him.

"Trying to figure out what in the world happened during your Exit. I can't make heads or tails of this data. It's too structured to be a garbage dump, but what it actually is, I honestly have no idea." Remus scrolled through the data, displayed in three dimensional Matrix-style code, while Harry looked on.

"Hang on," Harry suddenly exclaimed. "Go back," Harry said as Remus scrolled back down the display towards a section of the code. "That looks familiar for some reason. Do you mind if I take a closer look at this?"

With a shrug, Remus vacated his seat and let Harry at the keyboard. Slowly, Harry Potter zoomed in toward the code, following a branching pattern that appeared random to Remus. "Here," Harry declared as he reached a point within the code. "I recognize this. It's an entry point."

"An entry point to what, Harry?" Remus questioned. "And how do you know this?"

Focusing on the code, Harry opened a command execution window and typed a rather complex script. After executing the script, a query box appeared on the screen, which Harry quickly responded to with a string of symbols 48 characters long. As soon as Harry hit 'enter', the computer console showed the encrypted code morph and change into its true form.

"Oh my word," Remus gasped, covering his mouth with the tips of his fingers. "Harry, how did you do that?"

Harry Potter turned to second in command of the _Lupin_ and gave a small shrug. "I sort of created this backdoor while we were in the Matrix and used the Imperius curse on that Agent. When I saw that bit of code there, I just connected it with the encryption key in my head somehow."

"Sirius!" Remus called out over the intercom. "You'd better get down here immediately. You're not going to believe this!"

A couple minutes later a grumpy-looking Sirius entered the main deck, his hair disheveled and clothes looking crumpled. "You better have a good reason to interrupt my sleep shift, Remus, especially considering the dream I was just having," the captain growled out.

Remus pointed to indicate the code on the screen in front of him and then to Harry in turn. "Harry here has captured an Agent."

Sirius frowned. "What do you mean he captured an Agent?"

"I mean, you scruffy flea-bitten excuse for a hovercraft captain, that Harry has captured an Agent from inside the Matrix. That is the code for an entire Artificial Intelligence right there!"

Sirius took a close look at the console, looking over the Program in shock. "And we can interact with it, query it? Why isn't it self-deleting or trying to fry our systems? How did this happen?"

Harry looked back over at Sirius sheepishly. "It happened when we were back in the Matrix fighting the Agents. I caught this one, an auror from the magical side, with the Imperius curse. Basically, the spell is just a special command script that hacks another avatar inside the Matrix and takes control of them. Once I hit the Agent with the curse I had complete access to them and a direct connection that allowed me to communicate any instructions I wanted to give it. I guess when I Exited the Matrix the connection between us caused the Program to be Exited as well."

"And since Harry's own consciousness had already been transferred back to his own body but there was still data left inside the buffer, the safety protocols kicked in, preserving and isolating the tag-a-long code," Remus finished. "And we now have full access to it."

Sirius whistled, then flashed a brilliant smile at Harry. "Amazing work, Harry. Astounding that it was your first trip back inside." Then Sirius turned back to Remus with a grin. "Can I pick them, or can I pick them?" he bragged.

It took another minute for Sirius to get back to the control deck where Shaq was carefully navigating the underground tunnel systems. "We're changing course," Sirius announced as soon as the navigator had acknowledged the captain's presence. "We won't be heading back to New Salem just yet."

Shaq gave the captain a surprised look. "What's our new destination? You do know, some of us have do have personal lives to get back to. I had me a hot date…"

"Don't worry, Shaq, I'm sure you can pick up something for her that will make up for it where we're going. Set course directly for Zion."

* * *

><p><em>00111000 00111000 00111000<em>

* * *

><p>Less than a week after his meeting with the Architect, Albus Dumbledore sat in his office humming a lighthearted tune as he went through the stacks of papers on his desk with a tap of his wand. Being the Headmaster of Hogwarts, sitting within the Office of the Headmaster, Albus enjoyed a continuous update of all that was happening within the school boundaries, primarily through reports from the portraits that hung around the wall. A visitor to the office would note several strange devices which seemingly defied the laws of physics and wonder at their purpose, never realizing that through these devices Dumbledore could access any entity connected with his domain, Program or otherwise.<p>

There were definite advantages to living in a world so less constrained by the programmed rules of the Matrix. While Agents were able to receive a constant stream of information through their earpieces, they were required to use that external object by the Matrix code whenever information was to be made available to them. Worse, Agents themselves had no easy means to access environmental parameters or alter the code around them beyond what could be conceivable to a Human. Dumbledore, however, had no such restrictions. He need only make eye contact with any potential source of information and it was uploaded directly to his mind. Within his office, he could simply place his hand on one of the artifacts puffing colored smoke or spinning in midair and Hogwarts would shift and change according to his needs. Even outside of his office, conformity to his will was a mere wand wave away.

Despite these advantages, Dumbledore still chafed under the constraints of the Matrix virtual world. In particular, he disliked how limited to information outside of his domain could be. An owl had dropped a letter onto his desk, which he had read with a mere tap of his wand, and a frown had then immediately appeared on his face. It had taken minutes for that silly bird Program to deliver information he could have had instantly were it not for the rules of the System. Rules put in place to keep the Humans blinded and believing, yet impaired him as well.

Dumbledore stepped over to the fireplace in the Headmaster's office. "Ministry of Magic, Unspeakable Division," he commanded in a calm, even voice.

When Albus Dumbledore emerged on 'the other side', he was met with a cold stare from a man in a black robe. Dumbledore met the stare with eyes a-twinkle. The Unspeakable before him nodded. "Headmaster."

"Unspeakable Rookwood."

"Headmaster!" came a genial greeting from a red-headed man standing nearby next to an odd assortment of electronics heaped together in a pile. Much of it was half broken.

"Ah, Arthur," Dumbledore intoned in an equally warm tone of voice, as if he were a teacher greeting a well-liked former pupil. "Very good to see you. Ron has been doing well in his classes this year, quite an improvement from last."

"Good to hear," the Weasley patron said with a grin. "Augustus and I were just about to get into some very critical experiments on attempting to integrate magic and Muggle technology," he said excitedly. "The Minister is quite keen on getting magic and ekelikrity working together. Or is that why you are here then, to help give us your expertise?"

Dumbledore shook his head ruefully, "Alas, Arthur, I am afraid I must delay your experiments somewhat. There is a critical mission in New Dehli for which Unspeakable Rookwood is required. There has been a bit of a difficulty on the Muggle side of things which requires our special magical touch to handle."

Rookwood and Dumbledore met each other's gaze as he spoke, communicating the situation and the mission: The sentinel blockade intended to capture the _Lupin_ on its return to New Salem had failed because it had never attempted to return to its original port. The ship had unexpectedly been spotted as it docked in Zion. Harry Potter was now out of reach to any Machine attack, as required by the terms of the Truce.

Rookwood turned to leave with Dumbledore.

Arthur frowned. "Headmaster, I'm sure the Minister will agree with you, but I know Rookwood was given orders directly from the Minister himself. He would—"

Rookwood turned his cold stare back on Mr. Weasley, forcing the man to shudder. "In matters of international affairs, the Chief Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards outranks the Minister. Minister Crouch will be advised of this change in plans. For now, though, you are dismissed." And then he turned back to follow Dumbledore back to the floo.

Albus Dumbledore gave an apologetic nod over to a slightly confused Arthur Weasley. The poor fool. He had no idea just how little power the "Minister for Magic" actually had. It was, after all, a Human position. Pity was an emotion he was quite capable of simulating, something he felt in abundance for the truly unaware within his little world. Pity helped him to appear sympathetic, which in turn helped him to control those within his domain. Quite useful, really, at least in dealing with Humans.

Once he was standing outside alone with the Unspeakable, Dumbledore no longer attempted to sound kindly, though his expression remained grandfatherly for the benefit of any possible observer from afar. The Unspeakable already knew his mission objective from their brief but efficient eye contact earlier, but the authorization had to be explicitly stated. "You are authorized to use your full abilities for the duration of this assignment, even in mundane areas. You are to retrieve or eliminate Harry Potter at all costs, retrieval being the optimal outcome."

Rookwood nodded. There was a reason he was being called and given this authorization. Normal Agents were not designed with access to the updated functions that had been developed for use on Matrix avatars over that past couple generations. Those techniques generally remained restricted to the subsection of the Matrix in which the special experimental rules were allowed and to Agents of this subsection. But to use those functions outside of the restricted sections, even for an Unspeakable, special authorization was required before it was possible.

"And Sirius Black? A secondary target?" Rookwood asked.

"There is no secondary target," Dumbledore ordered with a shake of his head. "Sirius Black can only be considered as a target of opportunity if and only if there is zero chance of such a strike endangering your mission."

"Understood," Rookwood acknowledged with a nod. Then with a _pop_, he was off to New Dehli.


	14. Chapter 14: Zion

**Chapter 14: Zion**

* * *

><p><em>00111-TRANSMISSION INTERRUPTED-1001-READWRITE ERROR-_

* * *

><p>Captain Thicknesse cursed as the gunfire erupted on the crowded New Dehli streets. The hovership captain weaved through the crowd with a speed and grace only seen in the movies. Unfortunately, the Agents behind him could move just as nimbly.<p>

"Xeno!" he called into his cell phone. With the area being monitored the Machines would be able to trace the call, but in a situation like this there was no choice.

"Operator," came the man's voice on the other line.

"We're cut off. We need another Exit. Fast!"

"Already on it," the eccentric, but unmistakably brilliant operator called back. "Intersection of Guru Gobind Singh and Bansi Lal Verma."

Thicknesse watched as Parvati ducked out of the way, just as a spray of bullets clipped the concrete just above her head. He began to lead his team away from the gunfire when he spotted another Agent up ahead taking aim for Ludo. "Right!" the captain called out, and his crew all instantly obeyed. The Agent's shot narrowly missed his best gunner by scant inches.

Losing the Agents was no easy task. The crowded New Dehli streets were a double edged sword. On the one hand, the Agents were restricted from using their inhuman speed and strength or altering the playing field in any obvious way. Doing so would almost certainly lead to many more Awakenings, as would a large scale attempt at a clean up. As long as the Programs had to maintain the illusion of reality for these trapped minds, they could not afford to make a spectacle, giving the hackers an advantage. On the other hand, though, every person connected to the Matrix was a pair of eyes for the Agents, as well as another entry point into the virtual world. So long as there were people to see them, there would be no escape.

Thicknesse took his team down several small side roads, making a rapid series of turns. The Machines knew their world, it was true, but there were too many potential Exits and they did not know which one was their goal. Once out of sight of the trapped minds in the Matrix it would be harder for the Agents to track them. The Programs had many built in monitoring programs, but Zion had been hacking around such obstacles since before living memory. Without the perception of actual participants in the simulation, they were all but invisible to the Machines.

The team took to the rooftops by scrambling up the sides of the buildings like kung fu spider. Thicknesse held his hand out for his youngest recruit, Parvati, who had been rescued along with her twin sister years ago. Twins were not such a rare thing among the cloned fields of humans, but rescuing a pair at the same time was rather special. She grasped his hand as she came over the edge and they were off again. It seemed as if they had managed to lose their pursuit.

**_CRACK!_**

Or not. Captain Thicknesse looked up at the black robed figure that had appeared on the rooftop in front of them. He had never seen anything like it before. It didn't look like any of the other Agents.

"Xeno? What the hell is that?"

"I don't know," the operator yelled frantically. "Maybe it's one of those Mutant Agents I've been telling you about. It doesn't read like anything I've ever seen. But, whatever it is, it's bad, bad news!"

"_Immobulus_," the cloaked figure said, waving some kind of stick. Ludo froze in place, a look of fear on his eyes. The captain watched in shock as a jet of red flashed out, faster than a bullet, and the girl next to him crumbled to the rooftop, unmoving.

Captain Thicknesse was not one of the top virtual combatants in the military, not even in the top 10 percent. Despite improvements in hand to hand combat training and much greater success in defeating Agents, his odds of successfully defeating an Agent in combat was rated as less then two tenths of a percent. But at the moment, he didn't care. This Agent, or whatever it was, was picking his team apart. He wasn't about to let that happen.

"Florean," he yelled to his second in command. "You get everyone out of here, whatever it takes. Run. And when you get out, cut my connection and get the _Pius_ back to Zion. That's an order!"

And with that, Thicknesse charged the robed man, dodging colored streaks of light left and right. He let the rage inside him build up, knowing, absolutely knowing, that in this moment he was faster and stronger than any human limits. And so, he was. He surprised the Agent, mutant Agent, crazy boogeyman, or whatever the hell that was with blur of speed only Programs and Potentials were capable of, landing a kick to its midsection that sent it crashing down to the roof with a satisfying crash.

The captain spared a moment to see his crew beginning to follow his orders. Then he turned back to his opponent. He didn't need to win. He just had to delay them long enough for them to get out. That would be enough. If he was disconnected he might die, and he would probably end up in a coma, but his crew would be safe. Thicknesse charged again as the robed figure began to pick itself up.

He almost got there in time.

"_Imperio_!" he heard. And then he was just so, so happy.

* * *

><p><em>00111001 00111001 00111001<em>

* * *

><p>Harry stepped off the <em>Lupin<em> and into the Dock, his bright green eyes taking in his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was how much larger Zion was than New Salem. Where the entrance to New Salem's was intentionally narrow, only allowing space for two hovercraft to enter or exit at a time through a single access point, Zion's Dock had multiple gates, each with their own landing platforms. Massive mecha suits called APUs stood by each of the entryways standing as sentinels against potential attack.

Their presence, Harry knew, was mostly for reassurance for the citizens of Zion, an overt sign that the city did have a defense against the Machines if hostilities were to suddenly renew. In truth, these weapons would do little more than prove a minor delay in the destruction of the people if the Truce between the Humans and the Machines were broken. The fact of the matter was that if war resumed, there was no hope for a human victory. In that frightening event, the only chance of survival would lie in escape, evasion, and concealment.

Harry had heard about early attempts to change the status quo in favor of humanity. Secret weapons development had been carried out in the first human bases outside of Zion: Fortress 99 and Anvil Base. Those two military posts and the city that had supplied them, New London, had been razed to the ground in a sudden and brutal attack that had left the inhabitants of Zion trembling. Fortunately, Zion was left unharmed. The message from the Machines was clear: they would not tolerate a military buildup.

It had taken a severe overcrowding problem in Zion to convince the Council to finally allow settlements outside of Zion once more. The colonies of Delphi, New Sanctuary, and New Salem had each only been created after a consultation with the Oracle within the Matrix, to make certain this would not provoke another attack. Apparently, she had found it amusing that one of the proposed colonies would be named Delphi. More importantly, she had inferred that while cities outside of Zion would not be under the strict protection of the Truce, other human settlements would not likely be bothered if they did not become a threat, just as Zion had been allowed to operate for decades until it had grown too large for comfort.

And so it was that shipments of ore and petroleum were shipped into Zion from Delphi while surpluses of food arrived from New Sanctuary through a continuous stream of cargo ships. Harry watched the gleaming ships land and begin unloading with a smile on his face. This was real life. This was progress. It was the human spirit in action. It was extraordinary how humanity could adapt to disaster and manage to survive. Despite the untenable position in which the Machines had put humans, people were adapting and changing to try to thrive once more.

As Harry stepped off the platform with the rest of the crew where the _Lupin_ was docked and started to make his way into the tunnels leading into the city proper, a sudden thought occurred to him. "You know, Sirius, I just realized that the Machines are making a big mistake with the Matrix."

Sirius looked back at the youngest member of his crew with a raised eyebrow. "You mean because they didn't just 'put a bullet to our heads' as soon as we were defeated? Like villains in those old videos?" That thought had crossed his mind more than once. As it stood, humans were still at the mercy of the Machines, but were the mechanical AIs making a massive mistake by allowing humanity to hang on, cling to life as they were like a villain going off on a monologue or leaving the hero in some elaborate death trap? He always hoped that would be the case.

"Well, yeah, there's that," Harry said with a thoughtful expression. "But I was thinking more of the virtual world they built to enslave us. I think they made a big mistake when they showed us how great we can make things. I mean, they showed us that we can create massive buildings, cars, guns, and even space travel. In the Matrix they show us videos of ancient history like the Egyptian pyramids and building the Great Wall of China. Why show us things like that? When I think about just what we can accomplish, it makes me think we can do anything. Even one day completely beat those Machines and make a world where people don't have to hide in caves anymore."

Sirius let out a whistle. "Well, that was deep, kiddo. Where did that come from?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Just looking around here, at what we're doing in the real world. In Zion and New Salem. Do you think we could have built Zion like this if the Machines hadn't given us all a knowledge of science, math, and engineering while in the Matrix?"

In answer, Sirius just shook his head unknowingly. Harry had a good point.

"I think if they were really smart they would have everyone in the Matrix thinking they lived in primitive tribes digging in the dirt and hunting with bows and arrows. And if any of us started to get too smart, they should send in a dinosaur or something into the village to eat them." Harry remarked as they continued on towards where they would be debriefed.

"Blimey, Harry," Tonks said looking at Harry with a wary expression, "I'm sure glad you're not one of the Machines."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry there, Tonks," Sirius responded with a grin on his face. "I'm certain that you would be quite safe from the dinosaurs if Harry were in charge of the Matrix." After a second or two he added, "I mean, after all, he did say he'd only send the dinos after the ones who were smart."

Harry groaned as Tonks tackled the ship captain and the two engaged in a short, good-natured tussle. As usual, the captain was getting the worst of it.

"Are they always like this when they get to Zion, Remus?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not just in Zion," the first officer quipped back. "But only when they're awake."

"Ahem." A loud voice broke in from just in front of them. A square-jawed woman stood in the doorway looking at them with a no-nonsense expression. She had brown hair just beginning to grey and wore a neat military uniform. The insignia on the sleeve revealed her rank as a commander, second highest rank in the military.

Tonks and Sirius looked up from where they were sprawled on the floor. The two then slowly got up, with sheepish looks on their faces. After getting to his feet and straightening his clothes, Sirius approached the uniformed figure standing before him. "Commander Bones," the captain said deferentially, but with a charming twinkle in his eyes.

"Captain Sirius," the woman returned with touch of frostiness. "The Council would like to speak with you during its afternoon session. I am here to make sure that you are at that appointment."

"You're looking lovely as usual, Commander," Sirius said with a grin and a bow. "Of course, you never need an excuse to be able to follow me back to my quarters. I'm sure you wouldn't want me to come before the Council all sweaty and smelly from days of travel…or maybe you _do_ like me all sweaty?"

The woman's expression lost none of its coldness. "You will return to crew quarters and get dressed, but then you will go straight to the Council chambers. This is a serious matter…" As soon as she said the word, Bones caught herself, biting off a curse mid-sentence. "Don't say it," she demanded with a point of her finger directed at Sirius and a sour scowl on her face, obviously put there to prevent any amusement from showing. There was no resisting a classic like that.

Sirius grinned, but made no other reaction to the commander's slip regarding his name. "And how is your daughter doing?" Sirius asked conversationally as they all walked as a group back towards the crew's quarters.

"Susan is just fine, thank you, Captain Black. Now, please get yourself prepared to meet with the Council."

Harry surreptitiously fell further behind Commander Bones and Sirius and whispered in Tonks's ear as he continued to listen to Sirius continue his playful conversation and she continue to give him the cold shoulder. "Hey, what is up with Sirius and Commander Bones? Why is he intentionally aggravating her like that?"

Tonks snickered, albeit quietly, and whispered back. "That's him being charming and flirtatious."

Harry gawked, thinking Sirius had to be off his rocker to be teasing a commanding officer like that so brazenly. Especially with the chilly vibes she was sending back.

"Yeah, believe it or not, Bones and Sirius used to date a while back, before he ever made captain."

"Sirius screwed it up?"

"Of course. But there's obviously some feeling left there. The Captain milks it for all its worth every time we're in port here."

"Wow."

After a short while, the group arrived at the living area reserved for visiting ships staying short term in Zion. The living quarters were simple, but would allow the crew to change into clean clothes and have a restful place to sleep until they left for another mission or back to New Salem.

Sirius gave Commander Bones a cheeky smile, "Care to come in and make sure I don't sneak out the back window?" All he got was a glare in return.

* * *

><p><em>00111010 00111010 00111010<em>

* * *

><p>Hermione Jean Granger awoke from sleep with a smile on her face. Every morning was the same. She would open her eyes, look around, and remember that she was at Hogwarts. She would remember that she could do magic. And that always made her smile. To think that she had once believed herself to be just an ordinary Muggle with a love of books! Just remembering that she was a witch with a wand was enough to ensure she was smiling when she got up out of the large four-poster bed that every witch or wizard attending Hogwarts got to sleep in.<p>

Today however, as it had for the past many months, as soon as she fully woke her smile drained away to be replaced by a melancholy that did not suit her young face. Gone was the cheerful exuberance that she had exhibited ever since gaining her two dearest friends back in her first year. Instead of hurrying to get ready for the day, she took her time pulling on her school robes after showering and quietly descended the girls' side of the dormitory, ignoring the lighthearted chatter of the other Gryffindor witches. She didn't feel at all like chatting with any of them. As she looked around the Common Room, some part of her still hoped against hope that he would be there.

But, of course, he wasn't there. He would never be there again. Harry Potter was dead. Sirius Black had killed him. That thought wrenched whatever happiness she could feel away from her every time it occurred to her.

She had heard of troubles with dark wizards before, but until that day when Harry had been taken from her it had never really registered with her how dangerous things could be. The loss of John Anderson had been the first time Black's rampage had affected her personally, though she only knew the Hufflepuff peripherally. Harry had taken it much harder than her, though. That, everyone said, must have been why the mass murderer targeted Harry as well. The killer didn't want anyone growing up to be strong enough to take revenge on him. He killed Harry to prevent him from getting older and coming after him. That's what all the gossip said.

"Hey, Hermione," came the cheerful voice of her only other real friend. "Going to the Hall to get breakfast?" Ron Weasley was a comfort to her, despite his rather poor manners and uncouth behavior. He was all she had left now, at least within the magical world.

"Hey, Ron," Hermione answered, giving the red-head a small smile. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

She and Ron got on well enough, but it wasn't the same as when Harry had been there. Ever since fate had thrown them together first year the three of them had been inseparable. Teachers and even some of the older students had even referred to them as the "Golden Trio" when discussing their futures. Now, though, that was over. One corner of their little triad was gone.

With a sigh, Hermione pushed those thoughts out of her head and gathered her books together. She didn't have time to dwell on such dark things. She had Potions with Professor Snape immediately after breakfast and she hadn't really put enough thought into her essay. Following class she would have her Weekly Individual Personal Interview with Professor Vector so she would not have any time between classes to catch up for her Advanced Charms class. Hermione briefly considered skipping breakfast to work on her essay, before shaking her head and starting down. There was no cause to alienate Ron by missing one of the three most important parts of his day.

Hermione had to admit that the food in Hogwarts was incredible. The tastes and flavors of food they ate were well worth the food diary they were required to keep and turn into their Head of House. The delicious flavors were almost worth the incessant chatter that always accompanied each meal and almost enough to make up for Ronald Weasley's atrocious table manners. Almost, enough. Luckily for him, Hermione did value his friendship enough to put up with it, otherwise she would have made sure to wait until most of the students left before venturing down to eat. Today, though, there seemed to be an extra bit of attention towards the pair and Hermione was getting the feeling something bad was about to happen.

"Still trying to eat enough to make up for your lack at home, are you, Weasley?" the snide voice of Draco Malfoy announced loudly from behind them. Of course, Hermione realized. The biggest git in the school would have to come around now. Without Harry around, the Malfoy boy had become even more overbearing than before. He had taken to taunting Ron at every opportunity.

"Stuff it, Malfoy," was Ron's retort. It would have been at least bit at least slightly successful as a comeback if his mouth itself wasn't stuffed when he opened his it to talk and if bits of porridge hadn't have flown out as he spoke.

"Careful, Weasley, you might lose some of that food you're stuffing into your mouth. Back home that might be a week's worth of meals, isn't that right boys?" Draco taunted with a vindictive smile on his face. The two brutish boys standing behind Draco smiled and nodded along with him.

Hermione just rolled her eyes. "Look, Draco," Hermione said calmly, turning her head so that she could see him out of the side of her eyes while speaking, "we're just trying to have breakfast here. Don't you have anything better to do than stand around staring at Ron as if you fancied him?"

"Why you—" Draco started to bluster for a second before calming down. Then his customary smirk found its way back onto his face. "Actually, Granger," Draco all but spat her surname, "I thought I would come by and see how you were taking the news. But it seems you haven't seen the _Daily Prophet_ yet today. Maybe you and Weasley there can't afford a copy?" He threw an open paper on the table between Ron and Hermione. "There you go. We Malfoys do need to help out those poor witches and wizards among us. Consider that a gift from me. That is, if Weasley there has enough brains to read it." And then Draco walked back off with his pair of lackeys following behind him.

Hermione just shook her head. She loathed Draco in a way she didn't think she could ever dislike someone. There was a foulness that clung to him, a rot that came from being spoilt and pampered beyond anything reasonable. If there was anyone she hated as much as Sirius Black, it would have to be Draco Malfoy.

"Don't let him get you worked up, Ron," she was saying to Ron, though in truth she was speaking as much to herself as to him. "He's not worth the aggravation."

Hermione ran her wand over the copy of the _Daily Prophet_, checking for hexes before she would touch it. Despite being a couple years above her and Ron, Draco was not all that skilled of a wizard. She was confident she could find any sort of trap he might have placed on the paper. There was no way she would be caught by—

Hermione's face went pale as she suddenly grabbed the paper, her eyes feverishly pouring over the text. Every word she read she made her more and more agitated, her eyes wide and her body shaking. In fact, she was so visibly affected by the power of what she was reading that Ron stopped eating out of concern for her.

"Hermione? You alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Finally, after reading the same stretch of text over for the fourth time, she managed to tear her eyes away from it. "No! No it can't be!" Then she threw the paper back down on the table.

Ron, tentatively took up the paper and started reading as well. At first he didn't understand what he was reading, but then his eyes widened as well. "Blimey! I can't believe it! Harry is a dark wizard now?"

Now Hermione could see the stares and looks the pair of them getting for what they were. They were stares of sympathy, curiosity, and in the case of some, cruelty. There, on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_, was the announcement that Harry Potter was alive. Alive, but turned to darkness through the manipulation of Sirius Black and his growing gang of malcontents. Her best friend was the newest Death Eater.

Twin emotions warred within the young witch. The first was a feeling of denial and anger at what was written in the paper. There was no way that Harry…Harry Potter, her friend for as long as she had been at Hogwarts, was a dark wizard. He just couldn't be. She knew him. It was impossible. The second emotion, though, was comforting, despite conflicting with her other feelings. He was not dead after all. He was alive. Somewhere out there, Harry still lived.

"No, it's not true, Ron. Harry isn't like that."

"Well, it is in the paper there. Says he killed some auror sent to get him and Black," Ron answered with a frown, only half believing what he was saying.

"It says that now, but when Harry disappeared they were saying that Black had killed him. It also said that Black had killed John, but now it says John is part of their group of dark wizards, too." Hermione looked at Ron intently. "So, you see, they were wrong before. So, they have to be wrong about Harry now."

"Well, I guess maybe," Ron backtracked, looking uncomfortable. He didn't like doubting what the _Daily Prophet_ said. It just seemed…sacrilegious.

"Come on, Ron. You know Harry. He's our friend. He can't be dark. And even John seemed like an alright guy."

"Yeah, I guess so, Hermione," Ron conceded. On the other hand, Ron didn't think he could withstand the look he was getting from Hermione. The Prophet was an important source of news, but it couldn't glare the way an incredulous witch could. Definitely best to side with his friend than an semi-animate bit of parchment.

Hermione's intense look became a smile. "That's right, Ron. We're going to be the ones who believed in Harry. And when it comes out that he's really innocent, he'll know who his real friends were all along."

* * *

><p><em>00111011 00111011 00111011<em>

* * *

><p>At the head table in the Great Hall, several pairs of piercing eyes took in the interaction between Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley with great interest. At its conclusion there were worried and concerned looks all around.<p>

"I think I had best go talk to the wee dears, Albus," the Deputy Headmistress said, concern in her voice. "This is going to be a real shock to them."

"Yes, I think you are right, Minerva. Please express my sympathy to them when you do," the Headmaster responded.

Minerva rose from her place at the table, gave a quick curtsy of respect to the Headmaster, and then headed down to care for her charges. As soon as she left, Albus Dumbledore locked eyes with Severus Snape. The black robed wizard froze in place as the connection was made, his pupils dilating. Albus showed no visible sign of what was going on.

'_They do not believe the report, Severus.'_

'_Indeed, Headmaster, they do not.'_

'_That is unfortunate. What is your feeling on this, Severus? What will it take for them to accept the facts we wish them to accept? How far do we need to go?'_

There was a pause before Severus replied. _'Weasley should be a simple matter. A carefully scripted talk between you and his parents, as well as a bit of reinforcement should get him accept the…input.'_

The smile on Albus's face widened fractionally. _'Very good. The girl, I expect will not be so easy to persuade. Perhaps she will need to have her mind altered.'_

Severus hesitated once more. _'I'm afraid, Headmaster, that may not be practical. My feeling, if you excuse me, is that her belief in Mr. Potter is too absolute to be simply altered. Any attempt to do so by force would likely render her…unsuitable for your purposes.'_ Severus let that thought hang for a moment before continuing. _'Of course, Headmaster, if that is an acceptable outcome then…'_

'_No, no. You are quite right that we would much prefer no irreversible harm to come to Miss Granger. While she is not as useful as Potter would be, she is still far too valuable to risk in such a manner. As always, Severus, your insight has proven to be of great help.'_

'_Thank you, Headmaster. Then what of the girl?'_

'_We must watch her. Carefully.'_


	15. Chapter 15: Infiltration

**Chapter 15: Infiltration**

* * *

><p><em>00111100 00111100 00111100<em>

* * *

><p>The High Council Chamber in Zion was not built within the most grand of Zion's new structures, but it was one of the city's newest and most comfortably appointed rooms. After the War for Zion, the original building where the Council had met had been partially destroyed and was subsequently restored. The High Council itself was seated in comfortably cushioned high back chairs at a long table, slightly curved table on a carpeted dais. The table itself was made of wood, certainly a scarce resource in the subterranean city, and the use of upholstery in the cushioning was even more of a rarity for the resource starved humans.<p>

"Captain Sirius," the voice of the man at the center of the long table called out to him. "It is good to see you once again, though I'm afraid the subject of this meeting will be unpleasant." The man seated at the table was rather pudgy and pasty, the result of years spent sitting behind desks rather than engaging in physical activity. Councilor Cornelius was a career politician, which, considering the state of the human world and the pressing need for physical labor, said much about the man, as did the near pristine state of his clothes when all but one of the other High Council members wore clothes that were obviously worn from years of continued use.

Sirius looked over at the seat of the High Councilman and bit back a sharp retort. He had never liked this particular bureaucrat and despised the pretense the man was constantly putting on display. Instead of lashing out with vitriolic sarcasm as he very much wanted, though, Sirius matched the politician's false smile with one of his own. "High Councilman Cornelius, esteemed High Councilors, what a pleasure it is to meet with you all once again." The sarcasm was subtle, at least.

Sirius looked over at each of the High Council members sitting up at the raised table, showing respect by way of nodding to those he knew personally. Most of the leadership of Zion and the newer human cities was made up of good people, including many military veterans and civic minded intellectuals who put the interests of their city above all else. Some of those on the High Council had earned so much respect from the general population that they were all but compelled by the public to serve as leaders. Not that Sirius would ever let that happen to himself, but he could at least respect those veterans who paid their dues.

Of course, there were also a few exceptions to this.

Sirius made a point of looking last to a very familiar face. "Lucius," he said acknowledging the man with an ever so slight tic of his head. "I had heard you had managed to get New Salem's seat on the High Council. You must have set a record for the fastest move from a city council to the High Council." Sirius did not mean that as a compliment.

Lucius's smirk showed that he took the comment as one, regardless of how it was intended. "Clearly, the other members of the New Salem City Council felt that I was the _Councilor_ best suited to seeing to the interests of the city," he said stressing his current position. "Which is quite fortuitous, Sirius, as it is the safety of New Salem, and indeed of all of humanity, for which you are summoned to this meeting to answer for."

Lucius had moved up in the world since completing his military service, and his clothing showed it. Gone were the hand-me-down rags with which most of humanity had to make do. His robes were clean and new with embroidery along the edges, far nicer than that worn by anyone else, including Councilman Cornelius. His hair had also undergone a change. Where before it had been nearly white, now it had a slightly blond tinge to it, appearing to be a healthy shade. The man was eating well now and had regular access to hygiene products that could only be called luxury items in the current situation.

"This is bad business, Captain Sirius, very bad business," Cornelius said, taking the lead in the meeting once more. "With all due respect to your record as a hovercraft captain, the High Council has some very grave concerns about your recent missions. You are putting us all in danger with your…disregard for the status quo."

Sirius snorted. "Disregard for the status quo? Councilor Corneilus, the status quo is the bulk of humanity being enslaved by the Machines while the rest of us live in holes in the ground and subsisting on what we can scrounge for. It's our duty to all the people in Zion and all the minds still trapped in the Matrix to _change_ the status quo!"

There was a mild grumbling among the seated councilors as Sirius's words reignited what was obviously an ongoing disagreement among them. Cornelius pursed his lips in annoyance and cast a furtive glance back towards Lucius. At an expectant nod from the man, the well dressed councilor banged his gavel on the table in front of him.

"Yes, yes, we want to improve the lives of everyone in Zion and the other human cities, of course. But we cannot do that by putting all of our lives at risk by recklessly endangering the Truce—"

"And what about all the enslaved minds in the Matrix?" Sirius asked in an even tone. "I noticed you completely left them out of consideration in your statement about bettering people's lives."

"To be perfectly frank, Captain, nobody in the Matrix was born in Zion." Cornelius raised his chin slightly as he spoke. "They're not exactly _people_ like the rest of us are. The Machines grow them the way we grow our plants. It's all very _tragic_ that they have to live their lives in a dream world, and it is good that we can free some of them from time to time, but our first thought must be for those already here."

There was a brief, shocked silence at the High Councilor's choice of words. A full third of the High Council had themselves been trapped minds at some point in time. The sentiment that those in the Matrix were somehow less of a person than those born in Zion was not an opinion that would go over well with any of them. He might have well have called them all "plug heads" and spat in their faces with that remark. Lucius covered his face in his hands for a second before disguising the tell-tale motion by brushing back his hair. He gave a brief, furious glare towards the man before he tilted his head ever so slightly and once again forced a false smile onto his expression.

"I think," Lucius began with a short intake of breath, "what Councilor Cornelius means is that we cannot treat those enslaved in the Matrix as if they were already citizens of Zion. They are, _of course_, just as precious as any of the rest of us. But pragmatically, we must tend to those who are freed, to the _citizens_ of Zion, the very people who have elected us to represent them. After all, what good would it be to free a thousand minds and bring them to Zion only for them to be slaughtered by sentinels because we broke the peace?"

"Yes, exactly!" Cornelius was quick to agree. He hadn't missed the hostility that had been directed at him moments before. His face was flushed from the embarrassment of his obvious blunder. "That's all I really meant. It's all well and good to do what we can," he said with a nod before quickly turning to point an accusing finger, "but Captain Sirius has obviously gone too far."

Sirius shook his head dismissively. "We've been hacking into the Matrix for decades, Cornelius. Since when has the activity of the _Lupin_ been any more dangerous than that of any other crew?"

Lucius rose to his feet, pressing a button that activated a video screen set up behind the council. "At least since New Salem was subjected to a week-long blockade!" he snarled with an practiced air of righteous indignation. The display projected on the walls showed the tunnel areas around New Salem in three dimensions with thousands of red dots flooding the passages. "Three ships outside the city were intercepted on their return. The _Augustus, _the _Hestia_, and the _Andromeda_, all of them were lost.

"Our reconnaissance indicates the Machines sent those sentinels out to New Salem **within an hour** of when your logs indicate the _Lupin_ departed broadcast level and began the return trip home." Lucius leveled a glare at his former captain. "And guess when the blockade ended? **Within an hour** of your ship's arrival in Zion. This is no coincidence. It is your dangerous forays into experimental areas of the Matrix that have precipitated this emergency. Recklessness that I, as your former crew member, can readily attest to. All of our lives hang on the maintenance of the Truce, which you are endangering!"

* * *

><p><em>00111101 00111101 00111101<em>

* * *

><p>Harry Potter grinned as he walked along the walkways of Zion's command center, watching as a hovercraft set down on the Docks outside after having returned from some mission. He pushed a button and a door slid open with a hiss, just the way he had seen on one of those sci-fi shows Dudley had watched on the tele. Only, this was no show.<p>

"I love living in the real world," Harry said, his eyes wide in wonder as he stepped into the room.

Tonks, right behind him, shot him back a matching grin. "You betcha, kiddo. We may not be living in luxury, but some of the technology our ancestors built puts the Machine's little dream world to shame."

The room they entered was lined with computer consoles, each manned by a technician rapidly entering data on keypads. At the far end of the room were a series of inclined chairs set up for neural interface. From there, all traffic in and out of Zion could be managed in virtual space far more efficiently than within the real world. They might be helping people escape virtual reality, but they weren't afraid to use it when it could provide critical advantages.

A young woman with light brown skin and dark brown eyes the color of dark smoky quartz greeted them. "Welcome back to Zion Central Control, Officer Tonks." The smiling woman acknowledged Harry's crew mate companionably before giving him an appraising glance. "And you brought a cutie with you this time."

"Uh-uh, Padma, Harry here is going to be mine. Don't even think about it," Tonks put her arm around Harry possessively and shook her head.

The young woman smirked. "Oh, don't be like that, Tonks. Our civic leaders keep telling us how we all need share our resources. Can't I at least borrow him for a bit?"

Tonks pulled back and looked at Harry for a second, shrugged, then pushed him towards the other young woman. "Okay, but just for an hour or two. Then I want him back."

"Hey!" Harry shouted indignantly. "I'm not some piece of meat to be passed around!"

Padma put her a hand on Harry's forearm. "Oh, come on handsome, would you really mind being my little piece of meat so much?"

Harry's cheeks flushed red. Despite all the flirting he got from Tonks, he was still unprepared for the sudden ambush and the attention.

"Relax, Harry," Padma said with a grin. "I'm just going to register you in Zion's central computer systems. You'll need military authorization to work with the computer systems."

"Oh," Harry said with a touch of relief. He had been fairly sure it had been a joke, but still it felt good to know it for certain. "That's alright then. But, hang on," he paused for a second, "didn't I already get registered for the military back in New Salem?"

Tonks shook her head. "That was for New Salem's systems."

"But wouldn't those records be sent to Zion?" Harry asked.

Padma gestured for Harry to take a seat. "Your name and status as an active member of the _Lupin_ crew is recorded, but the rest is never transmitted where the Machines can intercept the broadcast. Security reasons. You'll need biometrics scanned here to get you the proper access to most terminals."

"Aye, Padma!" a voice called from one of the computer terminals. "Looks like yo' sista's crew is back from that mishin. New Dehli, whaddnit?" The man, his face marked with an abundance of pimples and with overly large ears leered at Padma. "Figure when yer sista gets 'ere we can fin'ly 'ave that double date, yeh?"

Padma rolled her eyes. "Oh sod off, Stan. Neither of us will ever want to go out with you, much less both of us at the same time."

Harry snickered quietly to himself. Stan had to have been at least four years older than him and he was getting rejected rather harshly while Harry was being flirted with by a pair of rather attractive women. They were just teasing, he was reasonably certain, but he had to admit that it felt pretty good.

"Now, let's get a bit of DNA," Harry felt a little prick in his arm. On the other hand, maybe that's what the flirting had been for, to distract him. "And now your fingerprints and retinal scan…" Harry put his fingers on a flat pad that was held out to him and then stared towards a small circle above a console for a second where the woman directed him to look. There was a short flash of red light, and then he blinked. "Okay, all done," Padma was saying with a pleasant smile as she expertly pushed a bit of cotton to where she had stuck him.

_Bleep_. The smile turned to a frown at the alert sound from the computer system.

"Well, that's not right," she said with a touch of annoyance. "Tonks, are you sure Harry hasn't been to Zion before?"

"Yeah, definite," she answered. "Been with him pretty much every day since he's been unplugged."

Padma frowned again. "Well, according to the computer, Harry's DNA is already registered in the computer."

Tonks shook her head. "That has to be wrong." _Bleep_. "Something must of screwed up with the sampling process."

Harry volunteered a second blood sample.

_Bleep_.

The result was the same. The computer would not allow them to add a new record.

"Maybe there was someone else with my exact DNA before," Harry said. "I mean, I know it's unlikely, but maybe I'm that one in a million chance?"

"No," Padma said, "there's no way. This isn't like the DNA testing you would have heard about in the Matrix. Because of the cloning process the Machines have used, our test does a complete genome match as well as an enzyme formation comparison. Even identical twins have hidden developmental enzyme markers that differ between each other in unique ways before maturation. No two people are ever the same. It's not a one in a million chance, it's more like a one in a quintillion chance."

Harry looked at Tonks and Padma in consternation. "What does that mean?"

The Zion Central Control technician looked at Harry with a puzzled expression. "It means, Harry, that you were born here, in Zion."

Every head in the room turned to gape at Harry.

"But, that's impossible!" Harry Potter said, eyes wide.

* * *

><p><em>00111110 00111110 00111110<em>

* * *

><p>Sirius stared at the screen in surprise. New Salem under a blockade? That was very worrisome. But then the smile on Sirius's mustached face returned.<p>

"That is troubling news, Councilors, and I don't pretend to be wise enough to tell you how to respond," Sirius said with a pause. "But I do know something."

"And what would that be, Captain?" Councilor Spinnet asked.

"That we are still here," Sirius said quietly, echoing the words of one Zion's most legendary leaders. There was a brief silence in the room.

Lucius snorted. "You are not Morpheus, Captain. And this is not the night before The Battle of Zion-"

"You're right, Lucius," Sirius answered with a smug look, cutting him off. "I am not Morpheus. And there is not going to be a war tomorrow. And that is exactly my point." Sirius let his words sink in before gesturing around the council room and to the screens displaying the security status of the city. "These walls aren't about to be breached. There is no reported buildup of Machines coming to wipe us out. Even New Salem was left alone, except for the tragic loss of three ships. The Truce still holds, despite my crews' 'dangerous forays' into the heart of the Matrix."

Sirius looked the councilors in the eye. "It is true that what I do is dangerous. Many of you know firsthand just how dangerous it can be. Most of you lost someone on missions to free a mind. And every life we lose is tragic." Again, Sirius let his words hang in the air before continuing. "But we keep doing it, not only because it is right, but because we keep getting more out of it than we are losing. Even considering the burden of the newly freed on society before they manage to integrate and contribute, even considering the lives of lost of those of us continuing to risk our lives to free others, the cost is worth the risk.

"The truth is, the Machines don't care if we free the minds of those who are already rejecting the program," Sirius continued. "We aren't making much of a dent in whatever it is They are doing. They can grow replacements faster than we can free minds. Our actions are not much of a threat to Them. It has always been Zion that They have felt threatened by, but so long as the Truce holds we remain safe. It's not our freeing of minds that they are worried about."

"Then why don't you explain what happened with that blockade?" Lucius asked, his eyebrow quirked imperiously. "Why are you willing to jeopardize this fragile peace that we have achieved to go mucking about in places we ought not to go?"

"It's because They don't want us there that we should go there. And that blockade of New Salem shows that They are afraid of what we can learn," Sirius said with a clench of his fist.

"And what was it you learned?" This time it was Councilor Clearwater who asked. "What was it that you brought back that was worth this retaliation from the Machines?"

Sirius grinned brightly. "A prisoner."

"What?" came the startled gasps from a number of the Councilors.

"It was Harry. He managed to isolate and capture an entire segment of code, a full artificial intelligence. An Agent." Sirius let this sink in. Seeing the stunned looks on their faces, he knew he had them. After this, they'd give him more resources, maybe even additional ships dedicated to his 'Hogwarts Project'. "We will be able to gain access codes, keys to restricted areas, protocols," he paused, "Maybe even our first real understanding of what it is that makes Them tick."

"This is extraordinary!" Councilor Spinnet, a former hovercraft captain was gushing. "With this we can—"

There was a loud commotion and the doors to the council chambers burst open and a single figure entered in a hurry. It was Commander Amelia Bones with a shocked expression on her oval face. "Pardon my intrusion, Councilors," she said almost out of breath. "But there has been an attack on the city! There's been an explosion in Zion Central Control!"

* * *

><p><em>00111111 00111111 00111111<em>

* * *

><p>Ernie Macmillan was an old hand at the computer system. He had been running things down here for decades before these kids had even been born, or hatched, or however they came about these days, and whenever something went really wrong, they still called him in to take a look. This, though was a waste of his time. Shows what those kids really knew.<p>

"What a bunch of nonsense, girl!" he said with exasperation. "This kid wasn't born in Zion. Just look, he's got plugs and jacks, and everything. Here," Ernie said as he typed in a few keystrokes. "You see, what you did was—" _Bleep_. "Huh."

"I tried that already, it was the first thing I did," Padma said crossing her arms with a smug expression on her face.

"But did you clear the buffer from the biometrics input?" he asked.

"And took a new sample. Same results, Ernie." The dark haired girl gave the veteran a look that asked "now what?"

Every member of the Zion Control staff not doing a critical job was gathered around behind Harry, Tonks, Padma and Ernie. The implications of this were enormous.

Ernie entered a few keystrokes, his brow furrowed. "Well, let's see why the old record didn't pop up when the DNA was scanned then. If he were already in the computer his active file should have popped up." After another second of thought, then some typing, Ernie's face lit up with a smile. "There! See, there's already a record for Mr. Potter. Harry James Potter, born on the thirty first day of the seventh month, nearly fifteen years ago. Born to one James Potter and Lily Evans, natural born citizens of Zion."

Tonks shook her head. "That can't be right. I got Harry out myself. I literally pulled him out of the biothermal goo and into our ship. There's no way he could have been born in Zion."

Impossible or not, this meant something important. "What about my parents?" Harry asked eagerly. "Are they still alive? Are they here?" The anxious, needy tones were not lost on those in the room.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," Padma said. "They…they're not alive. They were researchers. Military researchers working in New London. They were killed along with everyone else when the Machines attacked."

Harry caught his breath, the previous excitement draining out of him. He closed his eyes for a moment. "So, it was all just another lie. Mum and Dad weren't killed by any Dark Lord Voldemort." There was silence in the room, and a faint tingle of something in the air. "It was all the Machines! Wrecking everything!" Harry's hands slammed into a computer console.

Tonks put her arms around Harry consolingly. "'Ey, kid, it's okay," she said, intentionally letting her accent revert to the speech she used back when living in the Matrix. "Betcha that next time we go into 'ogwarts we'll kick some arse for yer mum 'n dad, right?"

There was understandably a lot of confusion in the room as Ernie and Padma tried to sort out Harry's records. Tonks was called away to help them with the details of Harry's current military standing and clearance for a bit, and Harry was momentarily left alone and he wandered over away from everyone. But just for a minute. A voice from behind him made Harry turn around, only to see Stan, the tech who had hit on Padma without luck, peering at him with an odd look on his face.

"What?" Harry asked.

"So you was really in th' Matrix, eh?" Stan asked drawing uncomfortably close to Harry.

"Yeah, that much I know for sure," Harry said, taking a step back to get a little more personal space.

"And you was born in Zion, eh?" Stan asked, taking another step towards Harry, staring wide-eyed at him as if he were some kind of puzzle to solve.

"Well, can't really remember, sorry."

"But the com'uter says you was, dudnit?"

Harry shrugged and nodded at the same time. "I guess," he said. By this time Harry had backed up almost to the door of the control room. "Um, Stan? Could you, you know, not stand so close to me, back up a little?"

The pimple face man cocked his head to the side, and gave Harry a bit of a leer. "Nah, cain't really."

"Um, why not?" Harry asked, getting more than a little freaked out by the strange behavior. Carefully, Harry slid his right foot back behind him to into a defensive stance. He didn't like the look in Stan's eyes.

"Well," Stan said, the leer turning suddenly vicious as the door behind Harry suddenly opened and two robed men on the other side reached in to grab him. "Cause then me mates could'na grab ya so easy, cu'd they?"

The door behind Harry slid open. A pair of arms grabbed him from behind and pulled him out into the corridor, just as an explosion rocked the back of the room—an explosion coming from Stan's computer console. Tonks barely had time to see Stan help two black-robed assailants, wearing some kind of white mask, drag Harry out of the room before she was thrown to the floor by the force of the blast.


	16. Chapter 16: Betrayal

**Chapter 16: Betrayal**

* * *

><p><em>01000000 01000000 01000000<em>

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy walked over to an empty place at the table and took a taste of the lemon vanilla pudding in the bowl in front of him, smirking as he thought of the poor Hufflepuff who had gotten up a few moments earlier coming back to see someone had taken a bite out of his dessert. In truth, he hoped the boy would come back now, so that he could flaunt the petty act. The past year, everything was coming up Draco. People were calling him the 'Prince of Slytherin', and his royal highness couldn't enjoy it more if he tried. Draco strutted away from the table and towards the exit to the Great Hall, the smirk on his face plain for all the world to see.<p>

Everything had been going his way ever since the disappearance of Harry Potter.

"Crabbe, Goyle," Draco said, summoning the two larger boys behind him like he was calling a pair of hounds. And they came, falling in right behind him as he left the room, like they should.

Now that the school's "Golden Boy" was no longer around, and worse, was disgraced as a dark wizard, Draco could do no wrong. When he mocked the Longbottom boy, nobody came to his defense. If he showed up late to class there was hardly a word said against him. And those few teachers who did assign him some form of punishment ended up eating crow when he got out of it with a pass from the Head of Slytherin. Just like now.

Draco was supposed to be serving a detention with Professor McGonagall for "rudeness and disrespect" during her Transfiguration class, but instead he was going to meet with Severus Snape for disciplinary instruction. Draco snorted to himself. As if Snape would have him punished. More likely he'd be pinning a medal on him for putting that old gargoyle in her place.

Yeah, the greasy black haired Head of Slytherin House understood the world the way none of the other teachers did. Snape knew what it meant to be exceptional. He appreciated what it meant that Draco's family was pureblood for three whole generations, and Snape got that it what those in power who deserved the most happiness. It was those in power who determined who would have the happiness. And Draco was destined for power. No, the Prince of Slytherin had nothing to fear from his Head of House, not so long as he showed the man the right amount of deference. At least, until it was Draco who was the one in power.

As Draco strode down the middle of the Hogwart's castle hallways down towards Professor Snape's office, the boy twirled his wand in his hands. Halfway down the corridor, he noticed a familiar pair of prefects heading towards him. Draco's grin immediately became predatory. His two favorite targets.

"Well, well, if it isn't Granger and Weasel out together for a stroll," he said mockingly.

The annoyed look from Ron Weasley would have been satisfying if the disdain on the face of the Granger girl wasn't so irksome. Weasley was the easy one to rile. The freckle-faced, ginger haired boy stopped for the confrontation, forcing the brown haired girl to stop as well to face him. Weasley was the only lifeline that girl had left; there was no way she could just walk on now. So, he'd be able to get to her as well before long, Draco knew.

"Shouldn't you be in a detention about now, Draco? I don't think Professor McGonagall will take any more disrespect from you kindly," Hermione said with what she wanted to pass off as a disinterested expression. Predictably, the Weasley boy backed her, his face might as well as had the words "yeah what she said!" marked directly on his skin.

Usually the know-it-all's penchant for knowing where everyone should be and what rules they were surely in violation of would have been infuriating in this situation, but now Draco was grateful for it. Saved him from having to bring the topic up. "Who, that worthless Gryffindor witch? As if she could actually do anything to me. As soon as my father heard about what happened it was taken care of."

There. It was that flash of indignation in Granger's eyes that made Draco's day. "Now, I'd love to stay and chat with you two, but I have someone _actually_ important to talk to." Draco waved a lazy hand as he walked away from the two, Crabbe and Goyle in tow. "Do make sure you two do a good job keeping things in the halls straight, now," he called back to them to drive the barb home.

Draco was nearly glowing with smug satisfaction when he got to Professor Snape's office. Draco entered the finely styled office of the school's Potions Master and Magical Ethics Deputy. He carefully schooled his features to something more appropriate as he noticed the inscrutable expression on the teacher's face. Severus Snape was not a man he wanted to push his luck with. Everyone knew Snape had the Headmaster's ear and the Headmaster was definitely the one with the power. Anyone could see that.

"Crabbe, Goyle, you two wait outside," Draco ordered.

"They can stay," Professor Snape said. The platinum blond haired boy saw with a measure of surprise his two ever-present companions exchange a brief look, then one more back to Snape, before nodding and then taking sentinel positions on each side of the door. "You may sit, Mr. Malfoy," the man instructed.

The confidence Draco had felt just earlier was quickly eroding away, to be replaced with a growing unease. Had he overstepped himself with McGonagall? Snape did not look especially displeased, but then the man rarely revealed his emotions. He could be nearly in a rage and Draco would never know until he had dug himself into a trap he couldn't get out of.

The moment stretched out until there was a knot in Draco's stomach before the Slytherin Head of House finally spoke. "Tell me, Draco, do you know why you are here?"

Draco gulped. "Um, to learn, sir?"

A tiny smile played at one side of Snape's lips. "To learn…what, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Um, proper behavior," Draco hazarded, "to learn my proper place?"

"Very astute, Mr. Malfoy," Severus Snape said with a nod of his head. "That is indeed the reason you have been summoned to my office. Your behavior with Professor McGonagall showed a lack of understanding of your role in the Magical World. I am here to remedy that."

It seemed as if the blood in Draco's veins had run cold. Severus Snape was going to punish him for his disrespect. Draco couldn't imagine anything worse than that.

"You showed an open disrespect from a professor of Hogwarts," Professor Snape said, rising to his feet as his black robes wrapped around him. "Your actions showed you thought more of yourself than an experienced teacher, the Head of Gryffindor House." Severus Snape walked around his desk until he was just a couple steps from Draco. "You were not wrong in thinking that, Draco. You do have the potential to be above her. What you don't understand is _why_ you will be above her."

Through the growing fear, a sliver of confusion entered Draco's feelings. "S-Sir?" he managed to stammer out.

"Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, why is it that you are better than others at this school? Better than the vast majority of the rest of the world, even?"

"B-Because I'm a Slytherin?" Draco answered.

Snape shook his head. "_Post hoc, ergo propter hoc, _or more precisely, you are confusing the cause with the effect, Mr. Malfoy. Do you think if we put Neville Longbottom in Slytherin and you in Hufflepuff that you would suddenly become valueless and Mr. Longbottom suddenly be of great worth?" The professor paused for a second to let Draco work through it. "You were put in Slytherin because there is something inside you that we value. Something that will be of great use. So, what is it that sets you apart from so many others?"

"My magic?"

Snape snorted in contempt. "I understand why you would cling to such a foolish notion; after all, I am partially responsible for making you believe it. But, that is certainly not the reason for your inclusion in the Slytherin program. Potter, Granger, and even Weasley all have shown as much 'magic' as you have ever displayed, if not more. What do you have that they do not?"

"My…" Draco was about to say intelligence when he realized that Granger had the school record for pretty much every test they had ever taken. "…cunning?"

Severus shook his head. "Intelligence and deceit are qualities we prize, in addition to your natural _special_ qualities that most of those in Hogwarts share, but those are not the traits I am talking about. No, what makes you have such potential for Slytherin are your other virtues: arrogance, hedonism, and above all else, your all consuming self importance."

Draco's eyes opened wide at the words from his Head of House. Professor Snape thought he was arrogant and selfish? And whatever that 'hedo' word was. Did Severus Snape think he was gay?

"Sir… I…"

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, it is time you learned your real place in the world," Snape said before addressing the empty air above their heads. "Initiate Slytherin recruitment program: subject Draco Malfoy."

The world fell away. Draco spun his head around the room in sudden disorientation, and for a moment, caught sight of Crabbe and Goyle. Only, they weren't Crabbe and Goyle anymore. They were something else, something distorted and wrong. Everything was wrong.

Draco was falling. Falling through a place where space and time lost all meaning. Oh, Merlin. He was in one of _those_ dreams again. Draco hated those dreams.

* * *

><p><em>01000001 01000001 01000001<em>

* * *

><p>"What do you mean 'Harry has been kidnapped by Death Eaters?'" Sirius demanded of a still choking and spluttering Tonks, who had just earlier been rescued from inside the control room.<p>

"I mean, those Cypherite, Death Eater bastards kidnapped Harry!" she yelled with a glare at her captain. "There was nothing I could do because of the explosion!"

Sirius held up his hand placatingly. "Sorry, Tonks, I didn't mean it as if it were your fault," then grunted in frustration, his anger still very much at the surface. "I'm just upset that Harry is gone. We've only had him for just over a year, but if something happened to that kid…"

Tonks scowled and waved Remus off as he was attempting to support her as she walked down the corridor. Her injuries had been mostly superficial, though not everyone in the control room had fared as well as she had. The Dock Traffic Controllers jacked in during the explosion were now either all dead or in a coma. Now that Tonks wasn't choking she could walk on her own. It wasn't her body that was hurting the most. "Yeah, I know. I'm just mad because I couldn't stop them. Damn it!"

"Language, Tonks," Remus chided as he looked around, frowning at the mess that was Zion Central Control. The hallways were still filled with smoke and the frame doorway into the control room itself was bent out of shape.

The Death Eaters had done some impressive damage. The computer console Stan had been at was next to several critical systems, forcing Zion to resort to backup systems that were far less efficient than the virtual one they used. Ships coming into the Dock were now being waved in manually and the massive doors were being swung open individually by techs holding large consoles with wires coming out of the back. The Death Eaters had also disabled all the cameras in the hallways and set off smoke bombs in the corridors. Nobody had seen where they had gone, and things were only just now getting organized.

Eon looked over at the rest of the crew of the _Lupin_ with a frown. "But why take Harry?" The tall, black haired hacker shook his head. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Actually, it might," Tonks said, getting the attention of everyone around her. "Before the explosion, we found out something about Harry, from before we got him out." Tonks paused for a beat. "Apparently, he wasn't grown by the Machines like other enslaved minds. He was born in Zion."

"How is that possible?" Remus asked, echoing the incredulity clearly evident on the rest of the crew's faces.

"Believe me, they triple checked everything. If the records are right, Harry was natural born in Zion. His parents worked on the New London project. From what the records say," Tonks paused again, "it seems Harry was taken when the Machines attacked New London twelve years ago, and then inserted into the Matrix."

Sirius shook his head. "No, that doesn't make sense. Part of the whole reason the Machines don't come and grab us all up, other than the Truce, is that we **can't** be inserted into the Matrix after we've lived in the real world. Once we know what reality feels like, we always instinctively fight the programming and wake up. Even kids as young as two or three can feel the difference, which is how old Harry would have been if he was taken in the attack on New London. The Machines can't even try it because each time someone wakes up they risk losing their entire simulation."

"But what if they could?" Remus asked with a frown.

"What?" Sirius asked.

"What if the Machines have figured out a more reliable way to block our memories of the real world? We've all seen how different things are in this 'Hogwarts' and the 'magical Britain' section of the Matrix. The rules are different there. They can do things that we didn't think Programs could do. They might have had this technology for over a decade now." Remus paused for a beat. "They don't even need to have perfected the technique. If they can partition off sections that they can experiment in from the rest of the Matrix, if something goes wrong they only risk losing that part of the simulation. And a partition is exactly what this whole 'magical world' subsection seems to be."

Eon nodded. "That would explain why the Death Eaters would be interested in Harry. He would represent proof that their end goal was possible, that they could be reinserted. But it doesn't explain how they could have set this up so quickly. I didn't think they were capable of something like this."

"You're right, Eon," Sirius answered. "They couldn't pull something off that quickly. I don't think Harry was their original target. They just took him out of opportunity."

"Captain Sirius!" the voice of Commander Bones sounded out of breath. The military commander approached at a quick trot, giving brief nods to all present. Several groups of uniformed military hustled about in the background.

"Commander," Sirius responded with a curt incline of his head to his superior.

"What is the status of your crew? Other than the missing crew member, of course," she asked, her tone professional, but with a hint of sympathy when mentioning Harry.

"First mate Remus and crew members Tonks and Eon are present and in good health. Tonks was shaken up in the explosion but is fit for duty, Commander. Crew members Shaq and Alastor are still with the _Lupin_, preparing it for departure. I've sent them word that our next mission will be delayed, but I intend to begin searching without them."

Bones nodded. "Very good, Captain. And don't worry, we'll find him. The High Council has ordered a city-wide search for your missing crew member. Half of all active militia have been assigned to my command, and I have ordered all available hovercraft crews currently in Zion to assist as well."

"That's better than I expected," Sirius admitted. "What do you need us to do?"

Commander Bones hesitated for a second, a little unsure about her next words. There was no hint of flirting or joking from the hovercraft captain now, unlike just the day before. Now the man was all business. She wasn't used to seeing Sirius like this. "Well, the truth is that Councilor Lucius suggested that you and your crew were too close to the situation to keep a cool head and wanted you off the rescue mission."

Sirius's eyes bulged in outrage and it looked as if a fire burned within them. "The hell we will! An army of sentinels couldn't keep me from going after Harry and you tell that—"

Commander Bones smiled and raised a forestalling hand. "I figured you would say as much, and told the Councilor that not only did I think it would be impossible to keep you and your crew from joining the search, but that it would be foolish to try to keep one of our most able crews from the task of finding their own crewmate. The rest of the High Council, at least most of it, agreed."

The captain of the _Lupin_ inhaled deeply, holding back the rant he was about to have gone off on before nodding. Then he gave the commander a brief, curious look. Had _she_ just teased _him_? A small smile crept on to Sirius's face, the first since he had heard news of Harry's abduction.

"Commander," Remus said. "I don't know what your overall search strategy is, but I do have a suggestion." At the commander's nod, Remus continued. "Whatever reason the Death Eaters have taken Harry, they must think that it will somehow help their cause. I would bet that they intend to use this incident to build up support for their cause among the general population in Zion, either to show that they are more dangerous than the Council has acknowledged, or send some other message."

"Sounds reasonable," Commander Bones agreed, prompting Remus to continue.

"If that's the case, then they must have some plan to announce what has happened to the public," Remus said. "They probably planned all this long before today. I think they'll try to use the city's emergency broadcast system to make their victory known, and soon."

Now Commander Bones was nodding. "Yes, and when they do, we'll be ready to trace the broadcast back to its source."

"And then we'll find Harry," Tonks nodded grimly.

* * *

><p><em>01000010 01000010 01000010<em>

* * *

><p><em>Find me.<em>

Harry Potter was curled up into himself in a corner of a dark room, silently berating himself for getting captured. He had struggled when his captors were grabbing him, despite having his legs and arms grabbed from behind, and the big one had punished him with a fist to the gut, followed by several more of the same. He knew better than to draw more attention to himself, so he laid there and tried to get a good look at where he was being held. Now he was in some kind of abandoned workspace, probably part of Zion's ongoing refurbishment project. Unfortunately, nothing he saw gave him any clues or ideas.

He was being held by Death Eaters: Disciples of Cypher, probably the greatest traitor in the history of Zion. While humans were doing their best to free more minds from Machine control, these nuts wanted to be put _back into_ the Matrix. They would gladly suffer a living death, trapped in the illusion created by merciless machines, all so that they could eat fictional steak. Hence the name. Harry didn't know what these crazies wanted with him, but he could be sure it wouldn't be good.

_Find me._ Harry wished out at the universe, to the crew of the _Lupin_. They would find him, he was sure. There was no way Sirius, Remus, Tonks, or Eon would let anything happen to him. Alastor and Shaq would be there for him, too. They were a crew. His family. Quite unlike these Death Eaters.

"You are such an idiot, Stan!" One of the now unmasked Death Eaters was ranting at the crazy computer tech that had set Harry up to be captured. "We were supposed to take a High Council member, not some nameless hovercraft plughead!"

"Oy, you don' know who this is, do ya, Rody? This 'ere's 'Arry Potter, this is!" Stan retorted.

"And who's 'Harry Potter'? Last I heard, that wasn't the name of any of the councilors," the one Stan had called Rody shot back.

Stan grinned. "'Arry Potter is the firs' ta be born in Zion and then be taken back by them Machines. That's gotta be worth more than jus' some 'igh Councilor, don't it?"

Harry didn't like what that meant. Silently he called out, knowing of course, that nobody could hear the thoughts inside his head. _Find me, Sirius. Tonks. Eon. Remus. Someone find me._

"What do you mean?" the cold, hard voice of the third of them cut in as the Death Eater quickly stepped closer. There was a hint of violence about his presence that made Harry shrink back into himself, and even Stan was cowering away. "Where did you hear this?"

"They was saying it in the control room, they was, Barty! Ernie even came in an' checked 'n all." Stan was clearly afraid of this third Death Eater, the one who had grabbed one of Harry's arms. Harry could tell Barty was young, as young as Stan, but there was something dangerous about this one that made him worse than the other two. There was something manic in his expression.

Stan was a gangly sort. Not too tall, but not exactly short either, with unkempt brown hair and a pimply complexion that he should probably have outgrown, considering he was closer to twenty than to sixteen. Rody was the one who had hit Harry on the way in to keep him from struggling. He was a dark haired man, with sunken eyes and some kind of infection around his plug holes. He looked worn and wary, like someone who had been without sleep for too long. Barty, on the other hand, had a sharp, penetrating look to him. He had short cut brown hair and hawkish eyes that seemed to focus very intently wherever he gazed.

"Well," Barty said easing away from Stan and addressing the other Death Eater, "I guess it wasn't a total cock-up, Rodolphus. When Rabastan gets back we'll decide what to do. If we can use this to prove that the Machines can—" After a sudden pause, Barty turned violently back towards Stan and snarled. "Why did you blow up the computers! If there's proof we can be put back into the Matrix we need to be able to show it to the people!"

"Ay, ay!" Stan said with a stammering protest. "'Twas your idea t' blow it up, waddnit? Asides, those computers just connect t' the mainframe. I didn' blow the mainframe up, jus' the consoles. The data's still there, an' I know how ta get it." Seeing Barty back off, Stan relaxed. "It's all up 'ere," he said pointing to his head.

Rodolphus, Harry realized that was the other man's full name, snorted his contempt for Stan's intelligence. "Well, that's comforting."

Suddenly, the one named Barty was standing over Harry, that same manic gleam in his eye the captured boy had seen earlier. "So, you're Harry Potter," he said with a gruff _hmph_. "So, is it true, what Stan said? You were born in Zion and _then_ plugged in?" There was something almost reverently wistful in the way the Death Eater said those last two words.

Harry's first instinct was to struggle again, to shout defiance at his captors, but his training prevented him from acting out on that feeling. _If ever captured by human opponents, stay calm. Don't agitate your captors. _ Sure, the memory download was meant to be a reference for events inside the Matrix, but Harry felt he should follow that advice here as well. Since he really didn't have any useful information his kidnappers could use, at least nothing Stan hadn't already seen or heard, Harry had no reason to keep silent when doing so would only earn him another punch or kick.

So, Harry shrugged. "I guess. The computer said so, anyway. I don't remember any of that."

Barty nodded. "Good. If you cooperate with us we won't have to hurt you. We're going to tell all of Zion that we don't have to live like trapped rats, that we can all go back to living in a paradise inside the Matrix. You tell them you've been there, how good it was, and you'll live. Simple as that."

Harry nodded weakly and Barty stepped away from him. He knew there was no way he would ever let these people use him, no way he would betray Sirius or his friends and what they risked their lives for. When the time came to do as the Death Eaters asked, he would spit in their faces and tell everyone to fight for freedom, to never give in or give up. And then these Death Eater lunatics would kill him, probably painfully. He really hoped to be found before then, before their fourth member returned. Dying would suck.

_Find me. Please._

* * *

><p><em>01000011 01000011 01000011<em>

* * *

><p>Augustus Rookwood looked out of eyes made of flesh. The body of the human he was implanted within moved according to his commands. Her memories were his to access, her senses his to explore. The mission to obtain the anomaly designated as "Harry Potter" was proceeding according to plan.<p>

And Rookwood was hating every moment of it.

The form of the girl turned her head to regard the rest of the crew, only to find their gazes similarly turning to regard each other. They were all just like him. It was as if there were five Rookwoods, or rather five copies of Augustus Rookwood. But they were not him, nor was he himself any longer Rookwood. He was not even a 'he' anymore. The moment their programming had taken control of these walking piles of flesh, their programs began to alter, to become unique—based on the adaptations made due to differences between their physical forms and the subtle differences in their individual experiences after the connection.

The body of the human who identified herself as "Parvati" turned back to the task of searching the corridors for Potter. Had any of the others already completed their task? Rookwood, or the copy that still identified itself as Rookwood, grumbled. It was frustrating not to be able to initiate a query outside of itself and receive confirmation from the system. Instead, he had to order the body to open its fleshy mouth and speak, and for the others to do the same. This entire physical existence, this merging of software and human anatomy, was repellent.

Rookwood looked forward to its own termination. It knew, in fact, that the real Augustus Rookwood program remained within the Matrix, and that the version in the human was but a partial copy of Rookwood's functions, retaining only that which was necessary to fulfill its purpose. It knew it should not feel emotion, desire termination, or feel repelled, at least not in this way. This was the result of its core program responding to the human body, its programming interpreting biological signals and converting them to preferred outcomes. And that was not right. And so Rookwood hated it more.

The Machines had learned much from the battle between the most recent version of the One and Smith, or what the rogue Agent designated as Smith eventually became. This version of the technique Smith had used to copy himself was a great improvement over Smith's flawed implementation. This version, rather than attempting to overwrite the original code, suspended the target's higher functions while taking over executive control, but leaving the targets own pathways intact, greatly increasing the efficiency of the new copy. Smith's original version had created a two way link between the originating program and each copy made, creating an inherent instability that would inevitably lead to break down and insanity. This version made the link one way, insulating the original from corruption, while still allowing it to receive new commands and instructions.

Though when uploaded into a human body, the controlling connection was also cut off. But regardless of that lack of connection, Rookwood would complete its mission. And then it could terminate this wretched existence. The body it was in signaled to the others that its search was negative, receiving similar responses from each of the copies in their own bodies. As a group they moved on, continuing their search for their target.

* * *

><p><em>01000100 01000100 01000100<em>

* * *

><p><em>Find me.<em>

"Did you hear that?" Tonks asked.

"Hear what?" Eon asked.

"It was like Harry was calling out," Tonks answered with a frown.

"You heard him?" Sirius asked.

_Find me, Tonks. Someone find me._

"Eh, sort of," Tonks answered, unsure of herself. "I don't know." It had been just a momentary impression. "Maybe we should search that way?" She indicated the direction she had momentarily felt like she had heard Harry from.

Sirius frowned. "Another team has that section, Tonks. Our orders are to sweep this area."

Tonks hesitated.

_Find me. Please._

"Don't worry," Sirius reassured her. "If he is over that way, Captain Thicknesse will find him. If I'm not mistaken, you're friends with one of his crew- that hot Indian with a twin?"

"Parvati," Tonks said with a nod. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Tonks still had the feeling that Harry was over in the next section, but shrugged her shoulders and moved on. They had a job to do, and another crew was already over that way.

* * *

><p><em><strong>.<strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Notes:<strong> _Things are getting towards the end, somewhere between 5 and 10 more chapters left. I've had the ending planned out since the first few chapters, but I'm hoping the surprises I'm about to throw out don't spoil it for those who enjoy what I've set up so far. I would appreciate feedback on things as I go.

**_Question for readers:_** Do you think I should have shown Captain Thicknesse's team actually being Imperiused a couple chapters back? I originally thought it wasn't necessary, but in hindsight I think I should have included a short section showing Rookwood's success.


	17. Chapter 17: Unexpected Deliverance

**Chapter 17: Unexpected Deliverance**

* * *

><p><em>01000101 01000101 01000101<em>

* * *

><p>Tonks was growing increasingly frustrated with the search for Harry, or rather the lack of progress. It felt to her that every moment that passed was taking the young man farther and farther from her and the rest of the <em>Lupin<em> crew. Eon and Remus led the way with fully charged lightning rifles ready to be brought to bear against whoever it was who had taken Harry. A burst of electricity would work well enough against a human, despite being designed for combating machines.

There was a sudden crackle in the air, followed by a short, high pitched squeal, before a voice was suddenly heard inside the building they were searching. It was the sound of Zion's emergency broadcast system. It was the sound of the people who had taken Harry. Tonks hoped they were close.

"_Greetings, my fellow prisoners of this decrepit city. My name is not important, but my message is. I am what many of you call Death Eaters, a title I gladly accept. We are the Death Eaters, and we have a message for you._" The sound of that voice resounded like a vengeful ghost within the emptiness of the buildings Tonks, Remus, Sirius, and Eon were searching. "_Some_ of y_ou may question why I don't address myself to the sham of a government called the High Council, or to the military that is supposed to be protecting us. Well, we have tried to reason with our so-called leaders, and do you know what we found out? That **they** are the ones who are keeping us down!_"

Sirius's radio sputtered to life. The captain put his hand to his ear, nodding to a speaker who wasn't present. "Got it," he answered before turning to the rest of the crew. "We've got a trace on where the broadcast is coming from. You were right, Tonks. He's just one search grid over."

"_So, it's to you to whom we are speaking. To the worker sweating in a greenhouse in order to raise crops of pale, tasteless bean sprouts we are forced to eat every meal. To the mechanic who suffers the scrapes and cuts of manual labor to keep the geothermal machines running that keep this dark and depressing hole from choking in its own stench. And even to the military crews who spend weeks at a time battling and fighting a war that cannot be won. This message is for all of you, all of you who would be free of this life of arduous labor and despair._"

As the four sprinted down the walkways in the rocky enclosure housing the buildings, the sound of the Death Eater's message faded in and out as they moved from the range of one speaker to the other. Fortunately, they were not being led by the sound of the voice, but by a feedback signal from Zion Control tracing back to the announcement now being broadcast over the speaker system.

"_We do our work in this city because if we do not, our rations are taken from us. We do it for survival. And mere survival is all that we as a people do in this city. But there are hundreds of millions of others who enjoy privileged lives, lives that offer fulfillment and pleasure that we can only dream of here. We all know where they are. Some of us try to pretend that somehow our miserable existences are not so miserable just because we know 'the truth' about what is going on._"

Hearing the sound of that voice over the intercom made Tonk's blood boil within her. "Keep talking, you sick arse. When we find ya, we're gonna shove yer words back down yer throat."

"_But the truth our 'beloved' High Council gives us will not satisfy our hunger nor will it offer us any real hope for the future. While shifty bureaucrats like High Councilor Cornelius glut themselves on our labor, they deny us the chance to have a life really worth living. And most damning of all, they keep us here as their servile labor force with lies. LIES!_

"_They lie to the red pills, those they claim to 'free', with false promises that this world is better, forcing them to make a blind choice. How many of you, if you had known that this would have been your life, would have chosen the blue pill? And the rest of us, those who were born in this city, are held here with another lie. They tell us that it is impossible to go back into the Matrix once you are out. They tell us that if you are unlucky enough to be born on this piece of dirt that you can never be a part of the glorious paradise the Machines created for us. But that, my brothers and sisters in captivity, is a lie. The greatest lie of all. And we, the Death Eaters, have the proof._"

The more Tonks heard, the more she wanted to shut that voice up. She knew what an abominable nightmare the Matrix was. It was a denial of your self. It was a shackle on your very soul. And this fool was talking it up as if it were some divine blessing.

And then the crew of the _Lupin_ heard something that almost sent them reeling.

"_Hello, my name is Harry Potter_."

* * *

><p><em>01000110 01000110 01000110<em>

* * *

><p>It hadn't taken the Death Eaters long to set up the equipment for their plan once the one called Rabastan returned. Harry watched the Cypherites rip wiring out of the wall, slicing open the plastic casing and splicing the exposed copper threads together before running the wires back where a computer console and a simple microphone were sitting on simple wooden table already waiting for use. Apparently this group hadn't chosen this place just for being conveniently hidden. The condemned site also had an old line tied into Zion's control center, giving them access to the emergency announcement system and to Zion's mainframe.<p>

Once Stan hacked into the computer systems and the broadcast began, Barty was the one who did the talking over the intercom, and Harry quickly understood why. The man was a passionate speaker, he had to admit. Barty was fanatical in his devotion to the cause, as insane as it was. His rhetoric, which everyone in Zion could hear echoing through the emergency announcement system, was equal parts reverence for the gift of what life would be like in the Matrix and zealous disdain for anyone who chose to live life in the real world. And then it was time, and Barty gleefully revealed that there was proof that insertion for those born outside of the Matrix was possible (or reinsertion for 'red pills') before the Death Eaters were handing Harry the microphone, the point of a knife held to his throat.

Harry looked at the display screen in front of him. The data from the mainframe was there, the details of his birth and the DNA match to him. Even as he stood there, the information was being transmitted to every computer system connected to the mainframe. There really was little to be gained by defiance. The truth was out there already and whatever damage it was going to do was already going to happen.

With a sigh, Harry pressed down on the transmit button on the side of the mic. "Hello, my name is Harry Potter, part of one of the hovercraft crews, the _Lupin_" he heard his own voice echo through the speakers, sounding unsure and shaky to his own ears. He didn't like the sound of the hesitance in his voice. He absolutely hated that he was here at all, speaking so much as his own name for these traitors. Harry continued, his voice slowly gaining strength as he spoke. "Well, the Death Eaters here say they just want me to tell all of you the truth, and I guess that can't hurt. So, here it goes. A little over a year ago, I was freed from the Matrix by Zion military. I'm grateful for that. I can't tell you how much. But before then, I guess I lived a pretty good life, at least as far as being inside a machine goes."

Harry paused for a moment until the knife was pushed closer to his throat by the Death Eater Rodolphus. "Tell them the truth, boy," the man hissed at him. "Tell them where you were really born. Tell them how much better it is in there than here."

Harry glared at the Death Eater with the knife, but continued. "But today I just found out, just like you are finding out now, that I was actually born in Zion and only put into the Matrix when I was around 4 years old or so. That's what this computer says, anyway." Harry felt the knife ease up as he delivered the message they wanted. "Well, the people who have me, the ones calling themselves Death Eaters, they want me to tell you how much better life was back when I was still plugged in, without having to work so hard and how great the food tasted. Well, I will tell you the truth...It is great…"

A smile broke out on Barty's face. Rodolphus's face wore a triumphant expression. The knife inched away from Harry's throat.

"It is a great, big LIE!" Harry yelled and kicked out with his foot.

It had just been for a moment, but the knife at his throat had relaxed, edging away from him and giving him a little room. Harry took that moment to jerk forward, ducking away from the blade that would have slit his throat. Harry's kick knocked over the table holding the microphone and computer console, which overturned with a crash and crackle of electricity in protest of its destruction. He had waited for his chance, and now he had it.

Harry twisted away from his captors, only to reverse direction and strike the side of the nearest Death Eater's knee, swinging his fist with desperate strength. Stan howled in pain and went down as Harry scrambled away from the overturned furniture and the two captors behind him. He saw the hateful scowl on Barty's face and the murderous eyes of Rodolphus as they rose up to pursue him. There was murder in their eyes, the same look his Muggle uncle would get in his eyes at times, only far, far more serious.

Harry knew he had to be faster or he would die. He had to be stronger or they would kill him. He needed to move, and he knew he could do it. He _knew_ it.

The muscles in his legs, however, had a different opinion. It was like he was watching himself in slow motion as Barty and Rodolphus boxed him in, their knives slashing at him, cutting into his too slow arms as he tried to back away. There was a motion to the side and Harry turned in time to see the kick coming from Rabastan before it connected, but his body simply could not respond in time to dodge. Harry was knocked sidewise and crashed down head first, unable to even tuck his body into a roll as his training mind wanted, tasting blood in his mouth as his face met the cement floor.

Harry knew that he would only at best be able to turn over in time for them to get there and stab him. He was just too slow and weak to stop them. This was not the Matrix. He didn't have a wand, and there was no magic out here. Simply thinking that he was faster didn't make him faster. There was no point in even trying to recover and fight them off, because he just couldn't do it. They would reach him and kill him no matter what he tried.

Harry turned himself over anyway and made the effort to struggle up before the final blows came to end his life.

He only managed to get halfway to his feet when the door exploded inward and the familiar sight of military uniforms filled the door frame. Barty and Rodolphus were literally shocked by the explosion of electricity that poured into them from the lightning rifles Harry's saviors fired into them. The knife wielding Death Eaters fell to the floor with gaping black wounds in their chests where their hearts used to be, smoke rising from their corpses. Rabastan and Stan lasted only seconds longer. Rabastan backed away with his hands up, pleading for mercy, while Stan was still rolling on the floor clutching his knee from Harry's own earlier blow.

The man and woman who charged in slit the Death Eaters throats without hesitation. Unsteadily, Harry stood and wiped the blood from his mouth, still in shock from the sudden rescue.

"Come with me, Harry Potter," the voice of the woman who held out her hand was cold, but the face was familiar. Harry looked over to his deliverer as he steadied himself. His thoughts were coming slow, the world still spinning around him.

"Padma?" Harry recognized the face now, but the clothing was different. Military, like from a hovercraft crew.

"No time for talk," the woman said with without blinking. "Now, come with me."

Something in the girl's tone seemed off, but Harry nodded anyway. These were the people who had just saved him from the Death Eaters; he didn't need them to be polite or sociable. "Yeah, sure, thanks for saving me." Hesitantly, he followed behind the girl while the ones with the lightning rifles took up positions behind him. Some of what Padma had said earlier in the short time they had met before his kidnapping was coming back to him. He remembered her mentioning a few things about a sister. Her twin sister, who was a gunner and hacker on a hovercraft crew. "You guys are the crew of the _Pius_, right?"

There was a brief pause, but his question was met with silence. Behind the just rescued young man, one of the crew members carrying a lightning rifle blinked, and then spasmed for a moment. At a command from the man in the lead, Harry couldn't quite remember the names Padma had given, and they were moving. His rescuers all walked briskly, hurrying him along, and Harry soon got the uneasy feeling that he wasn't being protected as much as being herded. When they exited the older section of the city where he had been taken and the group turned away from the Zion Control towards the Docks, Harry felt a tremor of worry.

"Hey, uh, where are we going?" he asked. "Zion Control is the other way."

Florean, or at least, the man who was pretty sure that his name was Florean, dropped his weapon and held his hand to his head as he collapsed to the ground. The ops man screamed at the pain in his skull, at the orders running through his head demanding he obey. It had been the boy's question about being a member of the _Pius_ that had woken him partially up, made him question his identity. The second question presented him with a choice, and Florean knew he had to fight whatever was controlling him.

"Run, boy! Run!" That was all he would remember before the lightning rifle was turned on him. Florean managed to remember the name of his crewmate, Ludo, just before his old friend ended his life. But in that last second, Florean smiled, knowing that he had died free.

Before Harry could even react, the girl Harry recognized as Padma's twin sister grabbed his left arm and shoulder, while the leader of the group grabbed his right side. Harry tried to struggle, but then the sound of the lightning rifle powering up froze him cold.

"Why are you doing this?" Harry demanded.

"Do not struggle, Mr. Potter," the group's leader said with a disturbing tone, even as he picked up the lightning rifle from his dead crewmate's hands. "We would prefer it if you did not force us to kill you. So long as you make no attempt to escape, we will not harm you."

Harry looked up at his saviors turned new captors in confusion. "Why? What's going on? Where are you taking me?"

The girl answered him, and her words chilled Harry to the bone. "We're taking you to see Headmaster Dumbledore, Mr. Potter. You will be going back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

* * *

><p><em>01000111 01000111 01000111<em>

* * *

><p><em>Harry didn't remember the blow that knocked him unconscious, but he did feel a somewhat reassuring pain in the back of his head. It felt real. That and the lack of streams of code floating through his subconscious gave him a fair confidence that he had not yet been taken back to the Matrix. The corridor he was currently being dragged through certainly looked like it was part of Zion.<em>

_"Take your hands off of him, you filthy Muggle!" an imperious voice called out._

_Or maybe not._

_There were flashes of light, the sound of a hovercraft firing its guns, and then the sound of manic laughter._

_There was the sense that he was about to be taken, taken to a place he could never return from._

_And then, more blackness._

* * *

><p><em>01001000 01001000 01001000<em>

* * *

><p>Harry Potter awoke in a strange bed and sat bolt upright with a yell. "Wait, no! I don't want to go!"<p>

"Take it easy, Harry," a familiar voice answered. "You're alright; you're not being taken anywhere."

Harry started to rise up, pushing the thin, yellowish-white bedsheet off of himself. Standing by his bed was a very worried looking Eon, who held out a restraining hand that gently pushed him back into the bed.

"Whoah, hold on there, Harry. You've been through an ordeal. You've got some pretty bad injuries, so you'll need to stay in that bed a bit longer, I'm afraid."

"Eon," Harry sighed, but then jolted back upright after a second of unease. "Where am I?"

"Zion Military Hospital, kid," Sirius answered as he stepped into the room. "You've been unconscious for half a day. The crew has been taking turns here waiting for you to wake up. You had us all worried."

"I'll go get Tonks," Eon said with a nod to the captain. "She'd kill me if I didn't let her know Harry was up." He clasped Harry on the shoulder. "Glad you made it. Hogwarts may have been an illusion, but they did get one thing right. You really are a Gryffindor." And with that Eon was out the door.

Inwardly, Harry winced. He didn't really feel all that brave. He tried to remember what all had happened to him, but much of it was clouded. He remembered the Death Eaters, making the announcement, and then…Harry looked over at Sirius in sudden alarm. "What happened to the crew of the _Pius_? They were-"

Sirius nodded grimly. "We know. Drones. Their minds were destroyed and replaced with an AI program. They found the operator of the ship murdered in his bed just a few hours ago. Apparently the most of the crew was turned on their last mission in New Dehli. We still don't understand how that was possible."

A lot of things seemed too impossible to be real over the last day. Harry felt a dull ache in the back of his head. He brought his fingers back and felt the reassuring presence of the jacks in his body. Deep down, he knew he was really awake, but he needed that extra tactile reassurance. The Machines had failed. He was still in Zion. Still with his real mind. But no thanks to him.

"Captain Sirius, I'm so sorry," Harry said.

"What?" Sirius stood over, a questioning look in his eye. "What do you have to be sorry about, kid?"

"It was all because of me. I got captured. And, the Death Eaters, they made me talk on that broadcast. I couldn't stop them…and when the _Pius_ crew showed up I didn't know what they were until…I let so many people get killed. People died just because I was born."

Harry felt strong hands grip the sides of his head, and in a moment he was looking straight into his captain's eyes. "Now listen here, Harry," Sirius said in a very sober tone, "none of this was your fault. None of it." Harry tried to look away from the love and sincerity in his captain's eyes, but the grip on the sides of his head was firm. "The Machines were the ones who killed the crew of the _Pius_. The Death Eaters were the ones who bombed Zion Control and took you. And those Cypherites were planning to take someone even before we found out about your parents being from Zion. So, none of that is on you."

"But I couldn't do anything!" Harry yelled. "They grabbed me and dragged me around, and I couldn't do anything! I didn't even put up a good fight. All that training, and I was still helpless."

At this, Sirius let Harry go, stood up and laughed. "Like hell, kid!" Sirius's face lit up with a beaming smile. "I'm proud of you, Harry, we all are." Sirius shook his head with exasperation as he saw his crew member scowl. "Harry, you're still just a kid, and your opponents were full grown adults, for the most part. And you were taken by surprise."

"Tonks wouldn't have been taken like that," Harry disagreed. "You wouldn't have been."

"We can't all be super woman," Sirius said with another laugh. "And I would probably have gotten killed." Then Sirius's expression darkened momentarily. "You may not have been able to stop them, Harry, but the bruises on your body prove you put up a struggle. Look, Harry, we may be under a truce, but there's still a cold war going on between us and the Machines. Sometimes people die, that's just how it is. And, yeah, sometimes someone makes a mistake and that ends up costing lives. When that happens you have to deal with it, learn from it, and move on.

"But this time, there wasn't anything you could have done differently when those Cypherites took you. And you showed them all in the end. We all heard you. All of Zion heard you. That was brave, Harry. Really brave."

Harry hated it, but he couldn't help himself. He broke down and cried on Sirius for a second as his captain sat down on the bed to lend him emotional support. "I tried, Sirius, but it wasn't enough."

"No, Harry, it was. If it wasn't you wouldn't be here with us now," Remus said as he walked into the room, followed by the rest of the crew of the _Lupin_.

"Seriously, kid, that was impressive," Tonks said with a grin as she sidled up to the other side of his bed. "Taking out an entire hovercraft crew? I mean, how did you manage it?"

Harry looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"You know, knocking out all the drones, those poor blokes from the _Pius_," Tonks answered.

And then Harry's eyes widened in sudden memory. "That wasn't me. It was…where is she?"

"Who?" it was Shaq who asked this one.

"Bellatrix!" Harry answered. "The one who saved me from the _Imperiused_ crew! Where is Lady Bellatrix?"


	18. Chapter 18: Conspiring Voices

**Chapter 18: Conspiring Voices**

* * *

><p><em>01001001 01001001 01001001<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>Take your hands off of him, you filthy Muggle!"<em>

_Harry heard the woman's voice echoing inside his mind over and over, but through a muddy fog. It was a commanding voice. A powerful voice. An angry voice. But while the voice was clear, he couldn't see the face that when with it. He could only hear that line repeated like an echo and then the same haunting laughter._

_Abruptly, the laughter ceased and Harry found himself looking up from a flagstone floor at a familiar hallway. He had walked that hallway hundreds of times on his way to classes in Hogwarts. Slowly, Harry rose to his feet, his eyes roaming the empty corridor. Some part of him knew the school of magic was part of a computer simulation, but at that moment Harry felt no alarm at his surroundings. Enchanted moving portraits stood on both sides of the hallway, their occupants bustling around as if they were alive, but these weren't the portraits he remembered. In the place of ancient knights and long dead professors were now people far more familiar to him, far more important to him._

"_Hello, Harry," the voice of Professor McGonagall greeted. His former Transfigurations professor and Head of House looked strangely forlorn, and somewhat confused. "You had better hurry, or you'll be late," she chided. Harry wanted to tell her that she was trapped in massive interactive program, but the stern woman hurried him onwards, oblivious to the wires that were slowly wrapping around her feet and up her body. _

_Mutely, Harry walked on, noting the ancient suits of armor and the castle tapestries were all as he remembered them. But bit by bit Harry began to get an eerie, uneasy feeling, as if he were forgetting something important. Not that he had really forgotten.  
><em>

_The next portrait Harry noticed was easily recognizable by the telltale red hair and freckles. It was Ron Weasley, his face alight with pure boyish pleasure as he was riding on a broom, his long hair blowing fiercely behind him. "Hey mate, look at me! Can you believe it? I made the Quidditch team!"_

_A smile came to Harry's face, but the smile turned to a look of horror when Ron turned his head looking for the quaffle. That was when Harry could see the long needle of a data probe protruding from the back of his friend's head. The shiny metal arched back behind the Weasley boy until Harry could see that it was actually formed from the bristles of his broom. Ron turned back to Harry, the same look of undiminished happiness on his face._

"_Well, Harry, I gotta get back to the game, the team needs me!" and then Ron sped away, out of the portrait frame even as an increasing number of the broom bristles began to plug themselves into the body of his friend._

"_Ron! Wait!" Harry tried to call out to his friend, but he was already gone._

_Now Harry hurried ahead, worried for who else he would see. On the opposite wall, Harry heard moaning voices. Dean Thomas from Gryffindor. Cho Chang, the pretty Ravenclaw he had secretly fancied before he had been freed. Even Draco Malfoy was there. And they were wall pleading._

"_Help us, Harry…you've got to get us out of here…"_

_Harry could see the wires sticking out from behind them, and the fear in their eyes. But Harry could only continue forward, as if he were being dragged against his will.  
><em>

_It was the last painting on the left hand side that really grabbed Harry's attention. He would recognize the face of Hermione Granger anywhere, and the terror he saw in her eyes just did not belong there. Harry rushed over to the painting, his hands pushed up to either side of the frame.  
><em>

"_Harry! Harry, help me!" she called out frantically. And then her head jerked backwards once, and then twice._

_Harry looked behind her in the painting to see the form of Albus Dumbledore standing there, his eyes cold and twinkle-less, his wand held aloft. Now Harry could see that it was from the Headmaster's wand that the wires were snaking out to plug themselves into Hermione and reaching out like sick tentacles to connect to all the other portraits. But where there should have been plug jacks at the end of each line, instead there were the heads of snakes, each biting into his friends' flesh._

_Hermione pounded on the surface of the painting again and again, while Harry tried to reach through to pull her out. But it was no use. Dumbledore jerked his wand backwards and Hermione flew away._

"_HERMIONE!" Harry screamed out. Desperately, he tried to claw through the canvas, but the surface was rubbery and resilient, not giving way to his efforts._

"_Leave them," commanded a voice from behind, and suddenly the hallway seemed to elongate, the portraits of his friends and schoolmates stretching far out of his reach, while an opening formed behind the source of the feminine voice that had just called to him. It was the same voice he had heard at the beginning of this walk.  
><em>

_Harry turned to see a woman standing there, at once familiar and frightening to him. She was medium height, with long, frizzy brown hair that spilled over her shoulders in spiraling curls. She had deep brown eyes so lustrous that Harry almost thought they were aglow, __sharp cheekbones, __and a pale face marked with dark circles just beneath her eyes. If asked, he would say her features bordered on beautiful, but the word "striking" was the first to come to his mind._

"_Who are you?" Harry asked the woman._

"_You may call me Lady Bellatrix," the woman replied with a smile, and in that moment the woman seemed caring and kind. "Now, come with me, Harry Potter."_

"_To where?" Harry asked._

"_To meet the Dark Lord, of course," she said sweetly. "To Voldemort."_

_Voldemort. The darkest, most vile black wizard of all time. Harry knew that he should be frightened, even terrified, but he wasn't. "But, what about my friends. They need me."_

_Where the woman's voice had just moments before been almost affectionate, it was now suddenly harsh and callous. "You cannot help them. Leave them. It is time to go."_

_Harry felt a pull, as if he was being taken away, and something within him made Harry feel as if it would be never to return. But the heart in his chest balked at the pulling force, and Harry screamed out, "No! I don't want to go!" and flung out his hands towards Bellatrix as if to ward her off._

_And with that that corridors of Hogwarts began to quiver, before transforming, becoming a plain cement corridor reminiscent of the honeycombed tunnels around Zion. Then darkness surrounded him, except for the light shining behind Bellatrix. The woman standing in the opening in the hallway began to cackle once more as she became wreathed in lightning that coursed around her from head to foot, but did not harm her. Gunfire exploded around Harry while Bellatrix continued to laugh madly._

Harry awoke with a yell. "**I don't want to go!**"

"Harry, are you alright?"

Harry heard the question before his eyes registered Shaq's presence a few feet away. He was back in Zion. Back in the visiting crew quarters reserved for ships not based in Zion. His friend's expression was filled with concern, and Harry quickly nodded his head to reassure his crew mate that he was okay.

"I'm fine, thanks, Shaq. Just a nightmare."

"You've been having them a lot recently," the man said with a frown. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"No, not really. It's just the same nonsense dream," Harry answered. "Each time it's about that Bellatrix woman." Harry sighed. "I know everyone says there's no such person, but she seemed so real in the dream."

Shaq shrugged. "Maybe she was real. Maybe she exists and we just have no record of her because she knows some way in and out of Zion that doesn't set off security alarms, or maybe some hidey-hole our security has just never uncovered. Or maybe she's something your mind made up to help you cope with what's happened to you, or to fill in some blank spot in your psyche. Either way, it's alright, kid."

"My mind can just make someone up like that?" Harry asked.

"Our minds are funny things. As powerful as any Machine computer, and a lot less understood, to tell the truth," Shaq said. "Her face might be of someone you only saw once in your life, maybe someone you never even consciously recognized. Or maybe her face is a composite of many such people. When we sleep, our subconscious makes use of our experiences and memories in ways our conscious mind never would."

Harry was impressed. "I guess you downloaded all of that from the mainframe?"

The big man shook his head. "Believe it or not, before I was freed, back in the Matrix my 'father' was a psychologist. The house was full of books on psychology. I had wanted to grow up to be just like him—to be Dr. Kingsley Shacklebolt." Shaq shook his head ruefully at the memory of his former life. "Got to admit, nothing in those books prepared me for finding out about the Matrix."

"I bet you thought you had gone round the bend when you found out the truth," Harry said with a laugh.

"I definitely had my doubts. Took me a little longer to actually wake up than most."

Something in Shaq's words suddenly struck Harry, and in a second he was off the bed and getting dressed rapidly.

"Shaq, you're brilliant!" he said with a grin.

"Harry? What's up?"

"No time. I think I can save them!"

Shaq was confused, but grabbed his light jacket and headed out as well. "Save who?"

"The crew of the _Pius_!"

* * *

><p><em>01001010 01001010 01001010<em>

* * *

><p>Lucius stood outside the doorway to the High Council chamber while the Zion Ruling Council discussed local city ordinances. While he had a seat at the table for these matters, as the High Council representative of New Salem he had no vote on such issues, which was fine with him. The issues he was concerned with would be coming up soon enough.<p>

It was on his way back to the chamber for these particular matters that he saw someone he had been meaning to gloat to. Now was certainly the time. His former captain was sitting outside stewing in frustration, partly perhaps due to the restriction not to leave Zion without clearance from the Council which he had ordered Commander Bones to give. Of course, with the Potter boy laid up from his injuries there was really no need for such an order, but it was something that would surely have gotten under the man's skin.

"Captain Sirius."

"Lucius," the black haired captain responded, letting his dislike into his voice.

"My how things have changed since you were the captain giving the orders and telling me what to do and how to do it. Now I'm the one giving the orders and you are the one following them," Lucius said with a mocking smile. "I must say, I don't really miss the cramped quarters aboard that dingy ship of yours, nor I might add, the company of its crew."

"I answer to the military and the Zion High Council, not to you directly, Lucius," Sirius snapped back. "And when I get back to New Salem I'll have even less to do with you. You leaving my ship was among the best things that has happened to my crew. I was able to finally replace you with someone who actually gives a damn about the success of our missions and not just saving their own skin."

"My, my, so touchy. My leaving must have hurt you more than I had thought," Lucius replied. "Speaking of my replacement, how is the boy doing? Recovering well?" The false sounding concern must have grated on Sirius's ears. "I really must thank the boy; without Potter's little adventure I daresay it would have been much longer before I had the votes to 'pull the plug' on your little project, much less to get a temporary cessation of all hacking activities inside the Matrix passed."

At this Sirius stood up, fists clenched and his face inches from Lucius. "There's no way the Council would ever let you do that. They know how important freeing captive minds is."

"Ah," Lucius said with an insufferable sneer, "but there is one concern that is more important than that—the continued survival of Zion. Before Potter's little kidnapping, it didn't seem I had much of a chance of convincing the rest of the Council that the danger your excursions creates outweighs the possible benefits." The blond haired councilor's tone sounded as if he were discussing pleasant weather rather than leveling a threat. "But with the actions of the Death Eaters, which we cannot rule out as being coordinated with the Machines outside," Lucius gloatingly pointed out, "and the Machine's use of drones against Zion for the first time since the destruction of New London, Anvil Base, and Fortress 99—things have changed. The people of Zion are scared, and the High Councilors are wise enough to accede to their wishes."

"You know there is no evidence that the Machines will break the Truce." Sirius angrily demanded passionately. "You would condemn thousands of minds to slavery within the Matrix over this? How much of this is about your personal grudge against me for being your commanding officer, and how much of it is you just not caring about anyone other than yourself?"

"No, Sirius," Lucius said with a shake of his head. "I would stop the waste of resources that has gone on in the name of a war that was over _almost a century ago_. I would have us look to making our lives better here, now, in Zion." And now Lucius answered with passion of his own. "If the resources were even going to build weapons we can use against Them when they one day come back to this city to wipe us out, then maybe I would see the value. But it isn't, is it? It's being wasted in an imaginary war in an imaginary world filled with fools who can't even tell fantasy from reality."

"And that is how you really think?" Sirius asked, sickened. "That those who were born into slavery to those Machines deserve what they get?

"And you really think that running around unplugging minds actually matters?"

"Yes, I do," Sirius answered. "And do you know why? It's not just because I know how much every person matters, plugged in or free. It's not just because I know fighting for every last person is the morally right thing to do," Sirius said with angry conviction. "It's also because I know that when the last war occurred and this city was about to be destroyed in the real world, that it was the actions that happened in there that saved us. Despite all our efforts to build guns and weapons in the real world, it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. It was Neo, Morpheus, Trinity, and the crew of the Nebuchadnezzar who saved us, not our military buildup."

Lucius scoffed. "You think you are Morpheus? And I guess Eon is Neo, or perhaps you believe Potter to be? Does that make Remus Trinity, then?"

"It may not be me or my crew that does it, but when the Matrix is finally shut down for good, it's going to be done from the inside," Sirius said emphatically. "When we find the weapon that destroys those AI bastards for good it won't be an EMP or an APU: it will be a series of ones and zeros. And the only way we'll ever understand Them enough to destroy them will be by going into their world and to learn how to decompile them."

Lucius snorted. "There's no hope for your stubborn idealism. Well, it won't matter. When you are finally called in to the High Council chamber, no matter what you say, we will be taking your ship from you. Mark my words, Captain, the vote will be 7-5, and no amount of grandstanding will save you this time. Our little battle was over before it even began, and you've already lost."

Lucius left Sirius to fume outside the High Council chamber with a knowing smile on his face. It was always satisfying to put other people in their place. And the upcoming vote would be an even more enjoyable opportunity to do so.

* * *

><p><em>01001011 01001011 01001011<em>

* * *

><p>Harry and Shaq ran into Tonks and Eon on the way to Zion Military Prison, the latter two joining them on the way despite Harry not explaining what was going on inside his head. Fortunately, Tonks had the necessary clearance to access the prison, or it might have been a rather short trip.<p>

Most of the inside of the prison was empty, with most of the occupied cells being for disorderly crew sent to cool off. For the most part, the group was ignored or simply waved on by the guards. But it was the high security infirmary on the second level where Harry was headed, and when they entered that area they did receive some scrutiny. Outside the secure hospital rooms where the three remaining, comatose members of the _Pius_ were, a guard was stationed, and he had a serious look to his face.

"Sorry, this area is restricted. Only family visitors allowed in observation area without authorization," the uniformed guard informed them as they approached.

"Excuse me, sir, but I have to see them. Please, I think I know the way to save them," Harry pleaded.

"Save them? _They're_ the ones who are a danger to _us_." The guard shook his head and gave Harry a baffled look. "These aren't people any more, son, they're Programs inside a human body. We were lucky they were stopped after they kidnapped some poor kid who was part of one of our hovercraft crews." The guard's eyes narrowed as he looked at the group. "Are you all even supposed to be in here?"

Tonks pulled out her ID badge and handed it to the man. "Tonks, 2nd Officer aboard the _Lupin_. That puts me at a rank of lieutenant in the militia, which makes me your superior officer. And the rest are all registered crewmen on the ship. I don't know what Harry has in mind, but he has my full support."

Harry gave Tonks a big grin. "Look, I think I know how to wake the crew of the _Pius_ up. We'll need to jack them into a virtual environment…"

"Whoah, no way," the guard said immediately. "You may outrank me, Miss Tonks, but _not_ my orders to not let anyone without direct authorization beyond this door. Sorry kid, you're not getting in, and I'm sure as hell am not plugging them into a system where they can do even more damage. Don't you know how dangerous these three are?"

Eon gave the man a cool look. "Considering that Harry Potter is the boy they kidnapped, and the one who stopped them in the first place, and one of the most talented Potentials we have in the entire fleet...yeah, I think he knows the danger better than you."

"I—" the guard looked at Harry with a bit of shock and hesitation before finally shaking his head. "No, you are not authorized. I don't care who you are you are—"

"Wha's all this ruckus in 'ere?" a deep voice called out as a massive man came around the corner. The man was easily a full head taller than Shaq, with a large, brown scraggly beard and hair to match. He looked as if he easily could weigh 300 pounds, and from the shape of his frame, mostly muscle, though he did have a healthy girth about him.

"Oh, Warden, sir!" the guard quickly saluted. "I was just about to have these people escorted out when you showed up."

"Mr. Warden, I'm terribly sorry, but…" Harry began to apologize for the group when a sudden change came over the man's expression. Where one second the man had a stern look on his face, now it lit up with a friendliness that shone from his eyes as much as it did from the smile his lips.

"Well, blimey, if it ain't 'Arry Potter 'isself!" the man called out enthusiastically and immediately grabbed Harry's hand and shook it vigorously. "Warden Rubeus, keeper of keys at Zion Military Prison, Mr. Potter. A real pleasure to meet yeh in person!"

"Um, likewise Warden Rubeus," Harry said.

"Jus' Rubeus, Mr. Potter," the large man said, still pumping Harry's hand.

"Right, and please, call me Harry, I'm just Harry." Harry said. "Um, sir, how do you know me? I don't think we met before."

"Well o' course I recognize yer, 'Arry! We all 'eard you when tha' lousy Death Eater made ya give tha' speech." Rubeus stopped shaking Harry's hand then. "You was so brave ta figh' back. Jus' free a year an' already so brave…"

"Well, thank you, sir, but I didn't really do anything. I was lucky to be rescued…" Harry protested.

"An' still so modes'!" Rubeus boomed. "So, wha's goin' on 'ere?"

The guard bowed his head a bit, before speaking up. "Um, well sir, Mr. Potter was trying to get access to the restricted prisoners. Asked to have them _jacked in_ to try and cure them. As I was explaining, they don't have the authorization, and they needed to leave—"

"Wha'? Nonsense!" Rubeus boomed. "This is the crew o' the _Lupin_! O' course they are authorized! Some o' our bes' and brightes' righ' here! If 'Arry thinks 'e can 'elp, then let 'im try!"

The guard quickly stammered an apology and opened the door to the secure ward. The group were lead into a small observation area with a view of five medical rooms, each separated by transparent walls. Waiting outside, sitting on one of the small benches in the observation area was a familiar young woman.

"Oh, Padma," Tonks called out.

"Tonks? Harry?" the young woman asked. There were clear tear stains on her face.

"How long have you been here?" Harry asked.

"Just a few hours today," Padma answered.

"She's been 'ere every day since they broug' 'em in," Rubeus said a bit tenderly. "She's a fine sister. It's a real shame abou' the _Pius_ crew, a real shame."

"We've been apart a lot since Parvati joined the hovercraft crew, but this is different," Padma admitted. "Seeing her like this...I know she's not really my sister, just a close DNA match, but we were freed at almost the same time..."

"I'm so sorry, Padma," was all Harry could say.

Padma shook her head. "This whole thing has been terrible. All the people those Death Eaters hurt, and what the Machines did to my sister…what they did to you…" For a moment, there was a look of disillusionment on her face. "I don't understand why things have to be like this. Why is this the world we live in?"

Nobody had an answer for that.

After a moment, it was Harry who spoke up. "I don't know why our world is like this any more than you, but there is one thing I know." Everyone looked to him. "I know I'm going to try my best to make the world we do live in as good as I can. And I'm going to start with saving your sister, if I can."

* * *

><p><em>01001100 01001100 01001100<em>

* * *

><p>Auror Rookwood found itself suddenly standing in a virtual void which the visual processing function of the form it was wearing, the body of Ms Parvati Patil, rendered as an endless blackness extending in all directions. There was a sense of gravity and direction, and a comfortable atmosphere, but beyond that there were no other signs of the physical world. For a human, that sensation would likely have been disconcerting when first experienced.<p>

Rookwood, however, was not human. It was programmed to be able to interact with the virtual world, but its concept of state of being was not tied to specifically to being within such an environment. What was disconcerting, though, was the lack of responsiveness of the environment to any of its queries. There simply were no pathways for it to send or receive queries or function calls. Even its avatar within the virtual world failed to respond to most of its commands beyond basic motor controls.

"Hello," a voice called behind it.

Rookwood turned towards the "direction" of the sound, which it knew was simply a command to the virtual avatar to shift the angle of its perceptional axis, but in the body it inhabited came with a host of superfluous data input. While the extraneous data was of no use, the object who had addressed the Rookwood program was entirely pertinent to its mission.

"Harry Potter," Rookwood acknowledged. The avatar of his target had unruly brown hair and wore glasses, much as his avatar back in Hogwarts had, but his appearance was subtly changed. Now he was taller, more muscled, and where before he had worn standard Hogwarts robes, now he wore a trench coat. Rookwood updated the information on its target, though it could only do so locally. Still, that was the protocol.

Unfortunately, this encounter was incongruous with the Program's last memories of the anomaly from the physical world. Despite those final moments being not entirely accessible due to trauma to the wetware of the human body it was in, Rookwood could only surmise that it was being held by the humans and that they were now attempting to extract information from it. But in doing so, it concluded, they had made a major mistake by bringing it into a virtual environment.

"Where is the consciousness of the girl?" Harry demanded. "Where have you locked Parvati's consciousness?"

So. That was their goal. A pointless exercise. Whether this particular human was recovered or not was irrelevant. However, this did play into the auror program's hand. It had something they wanted, and the target was the one trying to get it.

Eighty years previously, the Smith program, an Agent similar in function to Rookwood, had been granted permissions within the Matrix that had allowed it to evolve and reprogram itself in previously unanticipated ways. The result had been disastrous, ending in the complete destruction of that version of the Matrix, the release of all humans that had experienced that iteration of virtual environment, and the imposition of a Truce with the humans in Zion, an agreement which held the authority of both the One and Deus Ex Machina—as binding of a command as a Root directive, and one not easily circumvented.

Despite that fiasco, there were some benefits the Machines had gleaned from interaction with Smith, benefits that now gave it an advantage. Rookwood smiled. "That is none of your concern, Potter. You will return with me to Hogwarts to see the Headmaster." Among the benefits of the viral spread of the Smith program was the creation of a new copying function that would allow a program to upload its core command protocols to a target in a matter of seconds, even to a human mind. The process had been refined to leave the original program intact, but offline, leaving the invading program with full access to their memories and faculties. This was far superior to previous attempts to overwrite the will of a human, especially in terms of speed.

That was when Harry pulled out a wand. "I'm afraid, Rookwood, that when we loaded this Construct program we didn't actually give you a wand. Just me."

"I don't need a wand, boy!" Rookwood jerked his hand forward and pointed it at the target. "_IMPERIO_!"

Nothing happened.

"Ah," Potter said with a bit of a smile. "Did I forget to mention that we imposed complete access restrictions on your program? You cannot access the Construct Program, much less any of the special Hogwarts functions, Unspeakable or no."

Rookwood growled menacingly, the reaction triggered by an anger simulation responding to input through the mental functions of the host. "I don't need those functions to beat you, Potter," it cried and threw itself forward toward the target. "You will comply, or you will die."

"_Stupefy_!"

A red jet of light flashed out from the boy's wand, forcing Rookwood to dodge to the side. Apparently, the boy actually had programmed the Hogwarts functions into the system, but only he had access to them. Clever, and troublesome. A series of cracks and pops from where spells struck the construct floor accompanied Rookwood's acrobatic tumbling and leaping out of the way of the beams of code.

Potter was moving as well, carefully keeping a good distance while firing off curses, and far quicker than he had in the real world. All it would take would be for one command to get through and the Rookwood program knew it would freeze in place and be at its target's mercy. Fortunately, while the boy's movements were well above what should be humanly possible, they were not yet beyond the capabilities of a Program in a virtual environment.

"You're just a boy playing with the toys we created, Potter," Rookwood mocked while still trying to circle his target. "Without Hogwarts there is nothing special about you. There is no magic outside of these simulations. Only in here do you have any meaning at all." If it could just make direct contact with the Potter avatar, its primary program would be able to copy itself. After all, this was not truly the Rookwood Program. It was just a core designed to control a host. It really wouldn't matter if it were the Parvati girl, or the target itself.

"And you're just a fragment of a copy of a bunch of bits and bytes," the boy shot back. "You don't have any meaning of your own, just an incomplete copy. You don't even really exist."

There. The boy had let his guard slip with that, focusing more on the argument than on the positioning and footwork of the fight within this virtual setting. With a deft dodge, Rookwood was in range. It struck its hand into the Potter avatar's chest and executed its primary programming. Rookwood did not need access to the Construct interface functions. It _was_ the function. "_Imperio_!"

The Rookwood code began to spread into the Harry Potter avatar, the inky lines of its code beginning to infiltrate and insert themselves into the boy's brain back in the real world. Soon, the boy would be just like the girl he already controlled. Rookwood smiled. "Now, you will obey me."

But then the process suddenly stopped. And reversed.

"No," Potter said with conviction, grabbing the hand that had thrust inside of him and pulling it out, the already inserted code dripping out like poison sucked from a wound. Then with a grip that was impossibly strong, Potter held Rookwood by the shoulder and held its head still. "I know that spell. I could control you the way you tried to control me. But that would leave Parvati controlled by you, even if you are controlled by me, wouldn't it? I need to find where you put her, and you're going to show me where she is."

"I'll never release her," Rookwood spat back. "You will never find her consciousness."

Harry held the Rookwood program's head still and looked the Program directly in the eyes. "We'll see about that. _Legilimens_!"

* * *

><p><em>01001101 01001101 01001101<em>

* * *

><p>A door opened in a brightly lit dining hall and a single figure strode into the room at a brisk pace. She did not stop to admire the deep, rich finish of the twelve foot long dining table, or the shimmer of light from the crystal chandelier that hung above it. Her eyes were only for the dark robed man that sat at the head of the otherwise empty table. Her beloved Lord Voldemort.<p>

When she reached the seated man, Bellatrix dropped to one knee and bowed her head.

"Ah, Bellatrix, you have returned. But I see no new child with you. I find this…surprising."

At a gesture from the seated man, Bellatrix rose with a slight tremble. "I am sorry, Milord, I know it is not yet my time to return, but I believe you would want to hear this news immediately."

The man at the head of the table looked at the woman before him with eyes that were the color of the deep red wine in the golden goblet in his left hand. The man was handsome, with fine jet black hair and a long face with a strong jawline. He wore a long black robe that curled around him like a blanket. On one hand Voldemort wore a fine silver ring with the symbol of a snake etched into it and upon his brow was a platinum headpiece with a large gemstone set in the center. He took a sip of the drink and then set golden cup down on the table.

"Relax, Bella, I trust your judgment. There is no other I trust more than you." The man put one hand on the cheek of his most faithful companion.

Bellatrix beamed, her smile radiant at the praise. "I try, Milord."

Voldemort nodded his head, "Now then, do tell me of this news that brought you all the way back from Zion before time. I hope you found a Potential?"

"Of course," Bella stepped back away from the man she adored to give her report. "I did indeed find one. A boy—by the name of Harry Potter. But, I was unable to retrieve him."

"You, Bella? Unable to retrieve a mere boy?"

"I'm sorry, Milord. I was able to rescue him from the Muggles who were hurting him, but there was a complication. It seems the Muggles were under the control of Them."

What had been a placid look on the man's face up until this point now turned into a tightened expression of anger. "What would They want with a boy from Zion, Bellatrix? Did you discover their purpose?"

Bellatrix shrank slightly back at the display of anger. "I am not certain, Milord, but I believe they were taking him to be put into one of their towers to be… 'inserted?'" Bella's voice sounded uncertain on that last word. "He was being forced to go along with them against his will, while those taking him had been placed under Their mental control."

The man shook his head. "That cannot be it. They do not put natural born humans into their Machines. It causes Them far too much damage to do so."

"Forgive me, Milord, but the boy was like you."

Voldemort went very still. "Like me?" The man's voice was unnaturally quiet. "In what way?"

"The Potter boy, he had plugs all over his body. Like…like yours."

Lord Voldemort breathed in very deeply, taking a few seconds to calm himself. "I see. You did very well to inform me of this, Lady Bellatrix. Still, I wonder why it is that you did not retrieve him immediately. Could you not have found a more opportune time when there were not so many witnesses around?"

At this Bellatrix bowed her head. Then with a meek voice she answered, "I tried, Milord. But the boy. He Rejected me."

At this Voldemort began to laugh. "A boy Rejected you, Bella? You?" The laugh continued for several seconds before finally subsiding. "I find that hard to believe. With your beauty and power, what boy would in his right mind say no to you?"

Bellatrix stammered for a moment, caught between conflicting emotions of trying to explain her failure and responding to the man's completely unexpected compliment. Voldemort spared her further discomfort by interrupting her.

"You did very well to bring this immediately to my attention, my dear Bellatrix." With this Lord Voldemort stood up from his seat, his black robe flowing around now as if made of shadows. "I would very much like to meet this Harry Potter in person."

* * *

><p><em>01001110 01001110 01001110<em>

* * *

><p>Remus and Sirius sat together throughout the proceeding, seething in anger at the arguments being made. Word of a vote on shutting down missions into the Matrix to free minds had spread throughout Zion, and the chamber was packed with concerned citizens of the city, including every hovercraft captain currently not out on a mission. Unfortunately, there was also a sizable contingent for the other side—mostly the poor among the natural born in Zion.<p>

The arguments clearly showed the dividing lines among the High Councilors. Clearwater, Parkinson, and Zabini, were clearly aligned with Lucius and Cornelius, while five other members were outspokenly against the motion. It was the two quiet ones that really worried Remus. On an issue like this, it was strange that they were silent. He had a bad feeling something underhanded had taken place. And the smirk Lucius was shooting Sirius every now and again did nothing to lessen that feeling.

But things were coming to a head. Parkinson was about to call for a vote when Lucius was suddenly called out of the room. There was a bit of an uproar as discussion intensified out among the onlookers, but then Lucius returned just a few minutes later, slipping a note to Cornelius. Remus wondered what it could be about, but had no time to consider it.

Then came the vote, and the result absolutely shocked both Remus and Sirius.

Along with the rest of the captains and many of the first officers, Sirius and Remus filed their way out of the council chamber. It took a little time with such a crowd for them to find the crew of the _Lupin_, but they found them all gathered together, including Harry. After being reunited, it was then a matter of finding a place to talk.

"Before you tell us what happened in the vote, there's something you need to hear," Shaq said, forestalling the captain.

"That important?" Sirius asked.

"That good," Shaq responded. "Harry fixed the crew of the Pius. He's cracked the code of the captured AI and can use their own stuff against them."

"Unbelievable," Remus said. "It was supposed to take weeks at least to decrypt and analyze that data. And Harry just did it in a matter of hours since waking up?"

"Pretty much," Eon replied.

"So, how did the vote go?" Alastor asked.

Sirius threw up his hands. "It went exactly the way Lucius said it would. 7 votes to 5."

"What?!" It was Tonks who protested the loudest. "How could they do that? Those—"

"7 votes to 5," Remus amended, "_against_ the motion to suspend missions to free minds and to strip Sirius of his captaincy." That got a much more favorable response.

"I bet that put a crimp in old Lucius's plans," Shaq chuckled.

"That's just it," Sirius responded. "Cornelius and Lucius were the last two deciding votes. They both voted against the motion." Several jaws dropped at this news. "And even more surprising, they immediately resolved that the _Lupin_ and its crew were free to continue our missions, return to New Salem, and basically do whatever we want."

"You're kidding, right?" Eon asked.

"No, he's…well, not kidding." Remus shook his head. "It was the strangest thing. Right before the vote Lucius is called out, then comes back and hands a note to Cornelius. Then they completely reverse their votes. Of course, Lucius had the initial vote brought up by another Councilor, but everyone knew they were pushing that agenda. So, why they voted that way is a complete mystery."

"Wait, what color was the paper the note was written on?" Eon asked, then turned to eye a strangely quiet Harry.

"Yellow, why?" Remus answered.

Eon nodded. "Harry wasn't that note you wrote when we left Zion Prison on yellow paper?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe."

Remus gave Harry an incredulous stare. "Harry, did you have something to do with the result of this vote?"

Harry couldn't keep the grin off of his face any longer. "I might have had something to do with it."

"What did you write in that note?" asked Sirius.

"Oh, just something I saw in my computer file, something that _wasn't_ sent out to everyone by the Death Eaters along with my date and place of birth. My voting record. It was rather interesting that in the last three elections I had voted for Cornelius, all while under age. Especially, since I was still in the Matrix for the last two elections and hadn't registered my DNA in Zion for the last one," Harry said with a smirk.

"And then you suggested in a note that it might be best if this High Council vote came out a certain way?" Sirius said.

"I might have implied something along those lines…" Harry answered.

Shaq slapped Harry over the back. "Hah! Taking after our captain more and more, Harry!"

"Clever, kid. That's constant vigilance if ever I saw it," Alastor added.

"So, do you feel up to another mission, Harry? All healed up?" Eon asked.

Harry gave them all a wink. "I'm ready if you all are."


	19. Chapter 19: Reaching Out

**Chapter 19: Reaching Out**

* * *

><p><em>01001111 01001111 01001111<em>

* * *

><p>Snow fell in thick clumps of oppressive softness over the village of Hogsmeade, blanketing in a heavy white powder the cobblestone ground, the high-peaked roofs of the shops, and even the townsfolk who stopped in one place for more than just a few seconds. A particularly thick layer of white covered the shoulders and hooded head of one young woman who sat on a street corner with her body hunched over and her hands covering her face. Tears fell from her eyes, already beginning to crystallize into ice drops even before they landed in the building snow. The powder covering the girl's shoulders shook with her quiet sobs.<p>

What was supposed to have been a fun trip out of school over the weekend had become another depressing day for Hermione Granger. She looked up from one of her small sobs to see boy she had gone into Hogsmeade with, Ron Weasley, making out with that trollop Lavender Brown in front of Honeydukes, the very sweets shop he had promised to take Hermione to. He had to be doing this on purpose, and if not, that might even be worse.

With a bit of mental effort, she choked back her sobs and threw off the snow that had accumulated on her. It was time to stop feeling sorry for herself, she decided. It certainly wasn't doing her any good.

Ron Weasley was a prat of the first order and not worth crying over. It wasn't like she had thought she and Ron were going on a _date_ together, after all. They had agreed to go out and have some fun, buy some sweets and butterbeer; that was all. But ever since Ron and Lavender had become an item, which apparently meant snogging publicly every possible chance, Ron had ignored Hermione. And worse, he had completely turned against Harry.

"_What? Friends with Potter? Well, I wouldn't really say we were mates. Sure we studied together and all, but you can't blame me for that since we had all the same classes. Really, Granger was the one who was chummy with him…"_

A year ago, Hermione would never have believed Ron capable of saying something like that. As close as she had been to Harry, it was Ron who shared Harry's passion for Quidditch and Ron who had played exploding snap and wizard's chess with him. The three of them had been united, even after John Anderson had come and gone, but Ron had always been a closer mate in many ways. Hermione had no doubt that Ron would have supported Harry in anything back then. It was as if he were under some kind of horrible spell.

That thought didn't make Ron's current behavior any less painful. Not even the _Warming Charm _that Professor Flitwick had taught them to make the wintry weather more bearable could defrost the chill the young witch felt when she thought of this betrayal of trust and friendship. Hermione was once again alone.

Or was she?

There were footprints in the snow just in front of her. Footprints that appeared, and then were quickly covered by the falling precipitation.

"Hey, who's there?" Hermione called out.

The footprints dashed away, paused, as if someone was looking back at her, then continued onwards.

Hermione clutched her schoolbooks to her chest and charged out after the invisible fleeing person. Desperately she wanted to find out who this was. She found herself racing through the town, dodging around townsfolk and some of her own classmates to keep up with the barely visible footprints. The hood of her cloak fell away as she pursued the fleeing footfalls and she found herself panting hard in the ice cold weather. While she was running with her legs, her mind was working just as hard trying to work out how her quarry was doing this.

True invisibility was nearly impossible to maintain on a human body—its constant state of change rendered any attempt to make a living thing unseeable breakdown within minutes, and even faster under heavy exertion. This certainly couldn't be disillusionment or she would have seen at least a blurry image as the movement gave the concealment away. It was also unlikely that this was an invisibility cloak, or Hermione would have seen it brushing away the still heavily falling snow. However this was being done, it was rather clever.

Especially since Hermione now found herself alone, outside Hogsmeade village, out of sight of anyone who could possibly come to her aid if whatever she was chasing decided to spring a trap on her. The young witch froze where she was, ready to turn back towards the safety of the village. What had she been thinking?

_Hermione_.

The voice was coming from inside of her own head, but it was not her own. Startled, the brown haired witch smoothed the snow out of her hair and looked around. There was nothing. The footprints had faded away and she was left looking at an empty fenced off path just outside of Hogsmeade.

"Who are you?" she asked aloud, but there was no response other than the blowing of the cold wind. Something warm stirred inside her heart as a faint, irrational hope sprang up within her. After a couple of silent moments, she dared whisper the name. "Harry?"

The sound of a crash startled the witch, and she turned towards the sound, her wand drawn. Then she gasped.

She couldn't see anyone, but she did know where she was now. Just over the wooden fence that marked the edge of the footpath she had been lured out to, was the Shrieking Shack. The Muggles called it the most haunted place in all of Britain.

Hermione knew better, or at least she hoped she did. It wasn't that the Shrieking Shack was haunted—if it were that would hardly have been a cause for alarm. No, it was most likely a place where there were occasional wild magic fields, which could cause any number of strange effects which a non-magical would very easily take as a ghostly manifestation. Still, it was not a safe place to get too near to for anyone magical or Muggle. There had been disappearances. It was probably for that reason completely off-limits to Hogwarts students.

Hermione's eyes focused on the clump of snow that had fallen from the branches inside the fenced off area. She exhaled and holstered her wand, shaking her head at her own foolishness. How silly to be spooked by a bit of falling snow and an old Muggle story of ghosts!

A cold, biting burst of wind blew past her, sending her hair into disarray. When she straightened it back out, however, it was her thoughts that were in a jumble. The fallen clump of snow had been shaped by the wind into a face, a face that was nearly as familiar to her as her own. It was a life-like snow sculpture of Harry Potter's grinning expression carved into the fallen bank of whiteness.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, her hand reaching up over her heart subconsciously.

Once again the wind blew past her, and to Hermione's surprise, the face morphed into Harry with a finger help up to his lips before the entire form collapsed into just an ordinary snow drift. For a few frantic seconds, Hermione searched the snow for any sign of her friend.

"Where are you?"

After a few seconds, footsteps appeared once more in the snow, this time in several places at once and beyond the fence, making tracks in the field of snow leading to the Shrieking Shack. Hermione quickly realized the footprints were forming letters in snowfall.

_Not here._

Wind whipped around the field, instantly erasing the words, before more footprints began to settle in the snow once more.

_You are in danger._

_Hogwarts is a lie._

After each line erased, Hermione covered her mouth in shock. She had two very strong competing feelings: the first to deny any possibility that there was anything dangerous to her in Hogwarts. The other was to believe in her friend. But how could she be sure that it really was Harry speaking to her through the snow and not some trick? How could Hogwarts "be a lie"?

_Do not trust the professors._

_Help Ron. I will come for you. Trust me._

And with that, the messages stopped.

Half of her hoped that the messages were true, that her best friend really was coming for her, no matter what that might mean. The other half was screaming for her to find the nearest professor and tell them what she had just seen. But somewhere in her mind, something about the warning about the professors, particularly the Headmaster, rang true. After waiting for a few minutes, a very stunned young witch stumbled back through the snow towards the village of Hogsmeade, equal parts confused and hopeful.

Had she been paying more attention to her surroundings and less on her emotions, she might have noticed the tell-tale signs of a blurred outline and the footprints that had followed behind her all the way from the edge of the village. If she had stayed longer, she might have seen the moment when the upper-year student who had followed her removed the concealing illusion that had shielded him from her sight. Had she doubled back and observed, she might have seen the person behind her stare out into the snowy field for a moment before turning back to follow her back to the village.

But Hermione was far too distracted for that, and Draco Malfoy's presence went completely unnoticed.

* * *

><p><em>01010000 01010000 01010000<em>

* * *

><p>Harry's eyes took in the cascade of encrypted signals while his fingers blurred over the keyboard. This was the critical moment. "<em>You are in danger."<em> Not the most important message he could send to his friend, but it was true and would help to hold her attention and give the rest of his message greater psychological weight. _"Hogwarts is a lie."_ There, that was the crux of the message he needed to send.

"Looks like a permissions audit of environmental variables has been triggered for the whole sector, Harry," Shaq warned.

"It'll sweep through the area sequentially, so that will give you some time, but if your hack is detected all this will be for nothing," Remus advised.

Harry nodded, sweat pouring down his forehead. "_Do not trust the professors." _ This was a lot more nerve wracking than he had imagined. Such a short window to communicate, with such severe consequences for any degree of detection. _ "Help Ron. I will come for you. Trust me."_ With that, Harry clicked off the signal, returning the hijacked weather protocols to the control of the AI originally responsible for rendering them.

Harry exhaled and let his body slump forward over the controls, the tension going out of him. He didn't have much time to relax, though, before a heavy hand slapped his back.

"Excellent work, Harry, just excellent. You sent the message without the system being any the wiser, there's no doubt in my mind," Remus said.

Harry shrugged his shoulders at the praise. "You and Shaq were the ones who hacked into the system in the first place. All I did is was use the functions and methods you made available to me."

"Oh, no need to be so modest, Mr. Potter," Alastor broke in, his face set in a half smile. "Breaking into the system in the first place is easy enough. It's avoiding setting off any flags that's the tricky part. There's just too much data for even Them to see everything, but if they do detect an intrusion, you can bet they'll catch anything you sent." Moody stomped over beside Harry and gave him a good slap on the shoulder. "But, you, lad, did brilliantly."

"I must say," Shaq added, "I am impressed you were able to directly access your target's mind while she was conscious, even if it was for just a second. Usually we can only manage that sort of communication when we've already tagged someone, and they're already asleep."

Harry shrugged. "I know Hermione, and the interface was a lot like the ones we copied from the Agent program we captured."

"Well," Remus said, "I had better go up and tell the captain how things went so we can get underway and start the trace."

With that, the first mate of the _Lupin_ headed off. Shaq did as well, preparing to get some rack time now that the critical part was done. Harry was left alone with the console and Alastor.

"You'd have made your parents proud."

The comment caught Harry off-guard. "Sir?" Harry responded, getting a rough laugh from the older crew mate.

"Sir, hah!" Alastor said with a smile. "Been a long while since someone called me that." Then the grizzled hovercraft veteran fixed Harry with his good eye and nodded. "Yeah, it's what you think it means. I knew your parents. Didn't know you were their son until after that ruckus with the Death Eaters, but now that the facts are out, I'm surprised I didn't notice the similarities before."

Harry all but boiled over with questions he wanted to ask. "How-what-?"

Alastor forestalled him with an upraised hand. "I didn't really know them well, I'm afraid. Just in passing. They were doing important work in New London, trying to make the world a better place for all of us. I didn't see how they died, but I know how they lived. And that's the important thing, Potter."

Harry looked at his friend and crew mate thoughtfully. He always tried to avoid staring at the artificial leg and eye implant, or the scars on his skin. But sometimes, he couldn't help but let his gaze linger a little too long.

This time the old veteran noticed. "Yep, you guessed it. Got these in New London courtesy of the Squidies. Got lucky, the one that had gotten me was taken out before it could finish me."

Now Harry was at a loss for words. He wanted to ask more about his parents, but didn't know where to go from here.

"I'm sorry about your injuries..."

"Bah, nothing to be sorry about. I wasn't careful enough and got taken out from behind. I could have wallowed in self-pity and become a paranoid recluse or something, but instead I made myself useful on board these ships, doing some good. It's how you deal with the tragedy that determines your character, Harry." Alastor put a fatherly hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "And I will tell you right now, that I'm sure your parents would be proud of the character you've shown ever since you've been freed."

Harry wiped a bit of moisture from his eyes. "Thank you, sir."

"You can call me Alastor, Potter. Now, let's see if we can locate where your friends' bodies are being plugged in before that smart-Alec girl and your friend Mr. Potential come down and beat us to the punch, eh?"

Harry grinned and got to work on the tracer routine.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> _A shorter chapter, but I'm about to go on vacation and thought I'd go ahead and put this up._


	20. Chapter 20: Intrusions

**Chapter 20: Intrusions**

* * *

><p><em>01010001 01010001 01010001<em>

* * *

><p>History of Magic had always been a boring class for just about every witch or wizard who had ever been at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This was surprising, because the class was all about the conflict between Light and the Dark, answered fundamental questions of how magic fit into the universe, and was taught by an honest to goodness ghost. It was actually that last bit that made all the students dread each class. As cool as it was to have a dead professor you could walk through, the fact that Professor Binns barely acknowledged students' presence made the class difficult to get into. That was especially true for Hermione Granger.<p>

There were just so many questions she wanted to ask! Sometimes things in the magical world seemed to only make sense if you didn't think too hard about them.

For instance, when it was first explained that Muggles and their technology were incapable of perceiving large areas of the world, such as where magical creatures roamed or wizarding folk lived, it was initially explained that human technology simply missed those places. It hadn't taken Hermione even a minute to come up with a dozen inconsistencies this would cause with Muggle science, but Professor Binns continued his lecture completely ignoring her concerns. Of course, during some of her research she had later stumbled upon a more complete explanation of the phenomena that satisfied her, but it would have been much more useful to have had a live professor who could have responded to her immediately.

And then there was the fact that Professor Binns quite often forgot where in the curriculum the class actually was and repeated the same subject over and over again. Hermione wasn't the only one less than thrilled about this.

"Good morning students," Professor Binns began, addressing his afternoon class. "Today we will be discussing the rise and fall of the modern Dark Lords."

Audible groans could be heard throughout the class.

"Professor! Sir!" called out one of the Hufflepuffs in a futile attempt to get the ghost's attention. "We're supposed to be covering the European Goblin Rebellion of 1823! It's going to be on our OWLs in just a few weeks! Sir!"

"Since the days of Merlin, there have been hundreds of dark witches and wizards, and more than a dozen who have earned the infamous title of Dark Lord." Professor Binns' voice was dry and dusty, and exactly the same as the last twenty times had given this lecture. "Our focus, today, however, will be much more narrow, including only those who have obtained the title of Dark Lord in the modern era—since the establishment of the International Statue of Magical Secrecy and the installation of the International Confederation of Wizards as the governing authority for all of the Wizarding world." At this point, the ghost turned away from the class and began levitating a piece of chalk to scratch out notes on the chalkboard. "Since 1692 there have been only two wizards powerful and terrifying enough to be recognized as Dark Lord: The Dark Lord Grindelwald, and the Dark Lord Voldemort. Both of these terrifying forces of evil were finally vanquished by Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore…"

Herminone bowed her head and put her hand to her brow. Every student in the class had heard this lesson so many times that they all had it memorized, down to the three times during the class that the apparition turned back to the class to make a few theatrical hand gestures. Every witch and wizard settled in for a long, long, long lecture on the dark lords.

In truth, the rise and fall of these powerful and evil wizards was interesting. The story of their gradual corruption through the practice of forbidden magic, the damage the caused in their rebellion against the Ministry of Magic, and their ultimate defeat was a truly epic tale. Even repeated over and over, it wasn't the worst story to be stuck with. But Binns just sucked the life out of it, took any possible enjoyment from the subject.

With a sigh, Hermione pulled out one of the supplemental books on the Goblin Rebellions she'd had owled to her from Flourish and Blotts. Even if the professor wasn't going to cover the material for the lesson, she would, and more thoroughly than just what was in their standard course book. She was one witch not about to let a senile ghost prevent her from getting a perfect O on her exams. Hermione settled in and read while the ghostly professor rambled on.

Several pages later, Hermione looked up as Binns came to the part of the lecture where he would turn away from the chalkboard to the class and spread his arms out wide. Hermione couldn't bring herself to ignore the teacher as the majority of the class did at this point, even though he had never so much as noticed students actually conjuring pillows or transfiguring their desks into beds to sleep.

"…and thus the spell which brought about the Great Cataclysm wrought by Dark Lord Grindelwald was undone by the Chief Warlock, but not without great cost. The Magical World was devastated, thousands of witches and wizards were left dead or reduced to being Squibs. And to the Muggle world, it was as if they had been plunged into a nightmare and then reawoken. This lead to the first magical…"

Hermione looked back to her book at the same time Professor Binns turned back to his chalkboard. He wouldn't face the class again for twenty more minutes. She flipped the book to the next page and—

There was a flash of warmth that went through her arm. Hermione's eyes were drawn to the glowing picture of heroic wizard in the illustration, who gave her a salute before pulling out a wand with one hand and making a "shushing" sign with the other. Hermione stifled a gasp when the wizard's face transformed momentarily into Harry Potter's, gave her a wink, and then waved his wand towards the words on the page below. Hermione watched as some of the words in the textbook lit up in sparkling gold. She held a breath, realizing the sparkling words spelled out another message.

…_coming…to…save…you…_

…_do not…trust…anyone…here…_

The young witch kept her eyes locked on the page, as the History of Magic teacher droned on. She tried whispering to the book, but it didn't reply. Shortly later, though, she discovered why when the words of the next pages began to glow.

…_recorded…message…_

…_cannot…reply…_

…_find…the mirror…_

That was the last of the messages, though Hermione continued to rifle through the book, hoping to find more from her friend. Find the mirror? What did that mean?

It was as she was turning back and forth between the pages the messages had appeared on that Hermione suddenly got the feeling that someone was looking at her. She looked up from her book, and to her shock, everyone in the class WAS looking at her. Including Professor Binns.

"I—I—I'm sorry, Professor. I was just so engrossed in my _history_ book…" she stammered out, hoping the teacher would buy that excuse.

"Quite alright, Miss Granger," Professor Binns said with a wave of his ghostly hand, his voice surprisingly responsive. "I was just discussing with the class," he continued, unaware of how incredulous Hermione was that the History of Magic teacher thought what he was doing could be considered holding a discussion, "how the tactics and powers of the two great Dark Lords of our times compares and contrasts with our recent run of lesser dark wizards, such as Evey Hammond, Sirius Black and Harry Potter."

Hermione shrunk back, her eyes wide. She _wanted_ to speak up and say that she hardly thought that it was fair to put Harry in the same sentence as the mass murdering dark wizard Sirius Black. She _wanted_ to say she didn't think that Harry would ever hurt anyone. But she couldn't, not with the entire class staring at her. Not with a professor asking her directly.

"So, tell me, Miss Granger. What would you say is the greatest similarity between the Dark Lords and these dark wizards?"

Hermione frowned. Really, there was such a huge difference between the level of danger of someone like Harry, who hadn't even finished his schooling at Hogwarts, and a murderer like Sirius Black who was said to be as powerful as even an auror that Hermione really thought it was an unfair comparison. And then between Black and Voldemort or Grindelwald there was an equally immense gap. How were they alike at all?

The only one she really knew was Harry, and he _wasn't_ bad. Sure sometimes he disregarded some of the rules…but…Okay, so that was one way he was like them.

"Well, professor, I'd have to say it's in their disregard for the law." Hermione thought of the messages Harry had sent to her in the snow and just now in the book. "And their distrust of the government and society in general. That's all I can think of."

Hermione hated admitting even that about her friend.

"Very good," the ghost professor said with a nod. "But, there is one thing you missed."

The entire class looked from Binns to Hermione, and then back to Binns. What had begun as a very typically dry and boring History of Magic class had become unprecedented in more ways than one.

Professor Binns was saying something new. About something interesting. About current events. The ghost. The _history_ ghost was talking and responding to them.

And Hermione Granger had given an incomplete answer to a professor.

"One of the most troubling things about the dark arts is how seductive they are, how they twist a once good person into evil. That is what history tells us, Miss Granger. Dark wizards, whether they be dark lords or not, still believe that they are good. They believe what they are doing is right and that it is the rest of the world that is wrong. Which is how they justify hurting those that get in their way, even their acts of murder. And most tragically of all, they all, inevitably target the very ones they love, believing they are helping them. But ultimately they destroy those close to them."

"What…what do you mean?" It was Ron Weasley who stammered this out, though it was the question in Hermione's heart as well.

"If they cannot seduce those they love into joining them in practicing the dark arts and destroy their lives that way, they end up killing them in the attempt to convince them. And from that point, there is no turning back." Binns let his gaze sweep around the room, for once his eyes seeming to actually take them all in.

"It was the death of Grindelwald's family at his own hands that lead him to enact his diabolic ritual which caused the Cataclysm. It was the rejection of his family that lead the Dark Lord Voldemort to mass-murdering the wizard-born just forty years ago. It is his connection to Hogwarts which still leads Sirius Black to target the students here. It was the kindness and friendship of Harry Potter which caused John Anderson to target him and seduce him to the dark side, to join Black's cabal." Binns lifted a finger and pointed it at several of the Gryffindors, lingering longest of Ron and Hermione. "Those of you who have known dark wizards must be ever on your guard, for it is you they will come for first."

And then the ghost turned, its hands falling to its sides and it floated out through the closed classroom door, leaving a stunned class behind.

* * *

><p><em>01010010 01010010 01010010<em>

* * *

><p>Three figures in dark trench long enough to come down nearly to their ankles stood at a London street corner and eyed the dilapidated buildings opposite them. Rain poured down around them, making an already bleak looking street appear even more blearly. Pedestrians on the sidewalks hurried past the trio, bustling busily on whatever business occupied them, giving little heed to the small group or the street.<p>

"Are you sure this is the place, Harry, I don't see anything," Tonks asked. In this light it was hard to see, but the young woman's hair was jet black, and even her complexion had darkened.

Harry nodded. "I'm sure. The entrance should be right there between those two buildings." Inside, the young man was feeling his nerves. This was the first time he'd been back to a place he had known before he had been freed. There was a mix of nostalgia and nausea at the thought.

"They've changed the encryption." Eon's voice was cool, matter-a-fact. Of the three, only he was looking at their target with his bare "eyes," without the filtering program built into their sunglasses. "You can still see it in the code, if you look for it."

Tonks gave Eon an appreciative glance. The ability to see the source code while inside the Matrix was a rare ability, only one in a million ever pierced the illusion once within the Construct, and fewer still could continue make any sense of the code they perceived while jacked in. Potentials like Harry and her were highly valued because of the subconscious insight their fundamental understanding of code gave them within the programmed world. But to actually make out the structure of the code as it flowed in real time and overlay that against how the mind interpreted it? That was a whole other level of consciousness.

"We already have the new encryption key," Harry said while touching the sides of his shades with the tips of his index fingers. "We have our guests to thank for that." The shard of the Rookwood program and the auror program Harry had captured gave them all the tools they would need to break into the "magical world" within the Matrix. It would even get them into Hogwarts itself, though that would be a bit trickier.

Tonks nodded and followed Harry's lead. As soon as she touched her glasses and adjusted the de-encryption functions, she saw the world shift, buildings moving apart to make room for a small, decrepit-looking tavern. The Leaky Cauldron.

As the three stepped inside the poorly lit throwback to 18th century England, they could literally feel the code change around them. A few eyes turned towards them, but there was nothing in the visitors' appearance that looked out of place in here to any witch, wizard, or artificial intelligence posing as either one. From here, Harry took the lead, walking confidently to the back of the room, past the Program he had once thought of as Tom the bartender. When they got to the brick wall in the back of the tavern, Harry tapped the bricks in the pattern he had been shown with his wand.

"Whoah." To Eon's eyes, it was as if Harry were reaching into the code and effortlessly unlocking successive layers of encryption. As the bricks peeled away within the virtual world, Eon could sense a new connection being made, one that would not have appeared at all without the right coded sequence. It felt like the backdoor corridors Programs used to move between places within the Matrix world, very dangerous places.

"Whoah is right," Harry agreed. For the second time in his life, Harry was overwhelmed by the sights and sensations of Diagon Alley. This time, though, it wasn't the virtual sights that wowed him, but the multilayered data streaming into his senses. The simulation was one abstraction layered on top of another, dizzying in its complexity. There was still the physical world his mind was accustomed to, but layered over that were multiple other representations for relationships and authority he couldn't even begin to guess the meaning of. It was simply too much for Harry to take in.

When he looked over at Eon, however, he could see his friend was taking it all in without a problem. The young man's mind was like a machine in its ability to parse code.

"I can't believe you're getting all of this," he said to his friend. "No wonder you're so bloody brilliant at everything in here."

"I can't believe I didn't realize this was what I was walking through the first time I was here. The code here is unreal. Eon took everything in as he walked along. "I guess, they've got to layer it thick here, though, to anchor all the behaviors that are supposed to occur when someone buys something here."

After getting the full view, Eon turned his attention back to his young friend. "You know, before I was put in Hogwarts, I was planning on being a computer programmer. Did a little hacking as a teenager. So, I think that gives me a bit of an advantage in here."

"You were already doing this stuff before Sir—the captain freed you?" Harry asked as the trio rounded a corner street, headed for their destination. Their code private and communication was isolated from the rest of the Matrix, but some words were still too dangerous to potentially have overheard and scrutinized.

"Not really. What people program with inside and what we use to interface with the Machine code are completely different languages, though a lot of the principles are the same," Tonks answered. "Eon there isn't the only one here who started out as a hacker."

"So, in a way, the Machines sort of are teaching us how to fight them," Harry said musingly. The three of them walked past dozens of "magical" storefronts, moving with purpose through small groups of witches and wizards. Some were obvious AI due to the differences in their coding, but not all the Programs were that obvious.

"Yeah," Eon replied with a quick nod. "I'd say so. We can upload all kinds of knowledge into our brains, but knowing how to use it all is something we've all gotta learn on our own through experience. And you're right, Harry. I don't really understand why the Machines are giving us experience in dealing with computer languages at all. It doesn't really make sense."

The trio rounded another corner, finally coming to the side street they needed to take. This was where the information they had taken from the captured AI told them there was a backdoor into Hogwarts, a way past most of the security. Knockturn Alley.

As they started down the poorly lit street, Harry recognized some of the figures in the shadows as creatures from their Elimination of Dark Creatures classes: vampires, werewolves, hags, and living shadows. Harry's hand tightened around his wand. They hadn't dared to bring 'Muggle' weapons inside.

"There's something odd about the code here," Eon noted. "Many of the Programs are different from others I've seen. It's as if they don't belong here…"

Tonks nodded, her eyes gauging the things in the shadows for potential threat. Some of the shadows were moving off, but others still seemed overly interested in their little group. "The captain showed me something like this before on one of our earlier missions. They're holdovers from previous versions of the Matrix, when they were trying to extract information from us forcefully through fear and coercion. From what we know, the attempt was overall a huge failure but—"

Tonks was cut off as four rough looking men approached from different directions, converging on the trio with large grins on their faces. The men appeared unarmed, but there was something disconcerting, almost dirty about their code. The ruffians' grins quickly turned to snarls as their faces elongated into snouts, their hands became claws, and their eyes took on a wicked, evil gleam. In a moment, they were moving faster than was humanly possible, charging on all fours and then leaping for the throats of those that had dared to wander down this dark street.

Faster than was humanly possible was still slow by the trio's standards. These werewolf programs were fast, but next to the speed of an Agent they were still moving in slow motion. Tonks leapt into the air, her arms up like a crane and her feet kicking out viciously to connect with the nose of one of the lycanthrope assailants. Harry took a step forwards, slipping an open palm strike beneath the snapping jaw of the werewolf that attacked him, smashing it in the collar with impossible force. And Eon? He literally flew off the ground to snap a kick into the one in front of him, and then ricocheted backwards in defiance of the laws of physics to snap an equally powerful kick into the one behind with his other leg.

Four wolf-like creatures crashed with sharp yelps into the buildings around them. They were slow to try to get up, one of them already reverting to its humanoid form.

"We can't let them report our position to anyone," Tonks ordered. For the Programs to act as they did, it was unlikely these were official sentinels. Most likely, these outdated AIs were Exiles. Exiled Programs within the Matrix could not deal directly with the System, else they would be deleted, but they could use intermediaries to gain freedom, privileges, and a prolonged existence. "We'll need to use silver to—"

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Harry's wand rose and fell four times. Beams of green light lanced out, and the Exiles' space within the Matrix was terminated. There would be nobody to report them. Sure, silver would work, but the killing curse would work just as well.

"Are you sure that won't be traced?" Tonks's hair turned pink as she looked to Harry.

"It wasn't," Eon assured them. "And there were no other witnesses to the attack here. I guess that's one of the benefits of taking these backdoor accesses. Restricted access means fewer eyes once you are past the outer security measures."

"And the good thing about using the shell of a captured auror to mask my entrance is that my spells won't be traced. The deletion of rogue Programs won't set off any red flags," Harry added.

"Still, we should hurry to our target," Eon said. "We don't want to have to deal with more attacks like that. The less chance of drawing attention, the greater the chance of success on our mission."

Tonks nodded her agreement. "Alright, let's get to Borgins and Burkes as quickly as possible."

* * *

><p><em>01010011 01010011 01010011<em>

* * *

><p>The Headmaster sat with the same grandfatherly expression on his face that he almost always wore as the teachers gave their progress reports on their class progress and on individual student cases. The aged man nodded sagely, and appeared to take a keen, if overly affable, interest in the welfare of each and every student mentioned. Albus Dumbledore was attentive through the especially detailed reports from the head of the Ravenclaw House and Professor Sprout for Hufflepuff. He was particularly responsive to the concerns of the very vocal head of Gryffindor House.<p>

"I tell you, Albus, we will have a serious incident one of these days if something isn't done about Longbottom. The boy certainly tries hard, but it's a wonder he hasn't poked anyone's eyes out with his wand or accidentally disintegrated someone…"

Professor Snape, in contrast, appeared bored, and remained detached throughout the other teacher's reports. In fact, he wasn't much better when it came to discussion of his own students. His indifference was deep-seated and clearly showed his impatience and disdain for the entire process.

"…and while I may be overreacting a little bit, I am a little worried about Miss Granger. While she's still excelling academically, I cannot help but notice that her work is slipping. She's still turning in O quality work, but it isn't up to her usual standards of excellence." Professor McGonnagal looked to the Headmaster for an answer.

Instead of a comment from the Headmaster of the school, she earned the attention of the Head of Slytherin House. "Do you absolutely have to fret about every single student in your House during each meeting? I can assure you, Professor, the Know-It-All's propensity for voluminous discourse still has me marking her dissertations five times as long as the next overachieving witch, and ten times as long for the next most obnoxious wizard."

"Now, Severus," the Headmaster interrupted before a row could start between the two, "as much as you know that I value your input in these matters, I also hold Minerva's input in equal esteem. Please be patient while she has her say."

Snape snorted.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Minerva said.

"We will take a closer look at the students you have mentioned, including Miss Granger," Albus said with an incline of his head as the Deputy Headmistress sat back down after finishing her report. "And you, Severus, what do you have to report on for Slytherin House?"

"Nothing of note, Headmaster. My House is performing within expectations. There is nothing needed to be shared at this meeting," the man said, not even keeping eye contact with the remainder of the room.

"Oh, come now, Professor!" Minerva said indignantly, "You must at least be aware of the recent changes in Mr. Malfoy's behavior! These days he vacillates between arrogant impudence and dogged depression!" McGonnagal huffed. "What's more, as of late he seems to be isolating himself from the other students, even his two close…associates, Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle. I would think this would be something worth bringing up to the rest of the faculty, or did you simply not notice?"

The Potion's teacher rolled his eyes. "Of course I am aware of the change in the boy's behavior. What _you_ are not aware of, is the personal family matter that is affecting his performance; a personal matter he would most certainly not want discussed in a school meeting such as this," Snape said with a sneer.

"I would of course not ask you to disclose confidential information, Severus, but I would expect you to show just a little professional regard for your colleagues and inform us of the fact that such a family matter exists so that the rest of the staff can respond appropriately," the older witch argued back.

"Consider yourself informed," Snape replied tartly.

"There, there, Severus, Minerva. We are all on the same side here," Headmaster Dumbledore said rising to his feet with his eyes twinkling benevolently. "I believe that is enough for this afternoon. You have all done an _excellent_ job," and with a snap of his fingers the scrolls of paper in front of each teacher flew to the Headmaster's position. "I will read through each of your reports carefully."

As the teachers began filing out of the meeting room Dumbledore looked glanced over towards the departing teachers. "Filius, Severus, if you don't mind staying behind a minute more. I have a few matters to discuss with you."

Professor Flitwick's small, squeaky voice agreed eagerly. Snape inclined his head. After the rest of the teachers were gone, the two made their way over to the Headmaster.

With a gesture from Dumbledore, the door shut and locked itself. As Severus expected, all pretense of cheerfulness left the Head of Ravenclaw once they were alone, though the genial air of the Headmaster remained.

"At last, down to the serious business," Snape sighed.

Dumbledore fixed him with a stare that was undeniably cold despite the cheery and amused expression that adorned the Headmaster's features. "Make no mistake, Severus Snape. The running of this school is most certainly all serious business. In the future, you _will not _antagonize Minerva McGonnagal so openly in front of me." Dumbledore waited for Snape to acknowledge with a nod. "She has been this project's most successful subject, and has been both a student and on this staff for a time even longer than your own. We have no desire whatsoever for our longest running success to be upset by you."

"Forgive me, Headmaster," Severus Snape said as he bowed his head low. "I should not have overstepped my bounds. You know that I am…"

"Yes, Severus, I do," Dumbledore said. "Your position here is no less appreciated than McGonnagal's. But do not try our patience. You are not irreplaceable."

"Understood, Headmaster."

"Speaking of which, now, onto matters of _broader_ import. I would like your **true** report on Mister Malfoy. How go things? We have our own means of assessment, as you are aware, but we would like to hear your perspective on his case."

Snape pursed his lips in a frown. He hated being put in this position. The truth would eventually lead to his own redundancy, but to be caught in a lie would cost him too much to risk. "In all honesty, Headmaster, while he is very promising, Draco is not progressing as rapidly as I would have thought he would."

Dumbledore tapped his chin. "Interesting. While it is true that he initially showed resistance to the program, our measures indicate that he has stabilized and is adjusting to his new role and self-identity with little sign of rejection."

Snape shook his head. "It's not the danger of rejection I'm concerned with, Headmaster, I'm sure your biometic measures are more accurate than my own intuition on this." The dark haired teacher scowled momentarily. "No, it's something more subtle. While Draco is responding predictably to his role as a Slytherin for his own self-interest, there seems to be something inhibiting him from total acceptance."

"So you would recommend putting off Phase III with the boy?" Flitwick asked.

"Yes, for now," Snape said. "I am confident he will eventually become a perfect Slytherin, but it would be a mistake to rush the process with him."

Dumbledore nodded. "Wise advice, Severus. As always, we are grateful for your insight."

With that praise, the Headmaster turned to Flitwick and there was a quick back and forth of information exchange that took place between the two of them within instants. Still, the niceties needed to be observed, so they made the conversation vocal as well. "And what of our other project? Any improvement?"

Flitwick shook his head emotionlessly. "I'm afraid not, Headmaster. Even in combination, the remaining anomaly positive subjects give us inconclusive results. Without Potter, the entire program is stuck as it was fifteen years ago."

"A pity the cloning attempts have all failed to replicate the anomaly to any significant degree," Dumbledore said with a frown.

"Yes, without a viable replacement, there is no guarantee we can continue beyond the current generation. Local recruiting has largely only benefitted the Hufflepuff program, with the odd Ravenclaw here and there. Probability shows that it is highly unlikely to find even a moderate Gryffindor," Flitwick said.

The Headmaster shrugged. "Largely as expected, though disappointing."

Severus Snape's eyes widened. Were they discussing what he thought they were talking about? Suddenly, his secure life seemed suddenly less so. "If you cannot locate replacements, is there a possibility that Hogwarts might be shut down, Headmaster?" Snape asked worriedly.

Dumbledore patted his Slytherin teacher on the shoulder. "Not to worry, Severus. We do have another source for replacements available with a historically much higher positive identification rate. Depending on the final reports from our current attempts to find replacements locally, we may be harvesting that resource soon."

Snape frowned. "If it is not too presumptuous to ask, where is this other source?"

Dumbledore smiled his kindly, grandfatherly smile. "To be more precise, there are actually three. They are called Delphi, New Sanctuary, and New Salem."


	21. Chapter 21: Connections

**Chapter 21: Connections**

* * *

><p><em>01010011 01010011 01010011<em>

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy hunched down, pulling the collar of his Hogwarts robes up over the back of his head to better conceal himself from view. It was undignified to skulk around in the hallways like this, but right now he didn't really care about that. His entire world had been turned on its head.<p>

A month ago, Draco had been certain of his place at the top of Wizarding society. He was Draco Malfoy, heir of the most prestigious line of wizards, at least four generations of pure magical blood, maybe more. No other family in Magical Britain had produced a pure line since Grindelwald's Cataclysm had literally decimated the magical population, killing or magically crippling nine out of every ten witches and wizards throughout the world. He was a Slytherin, destined to be a ruler among wizard-kind, a king among gods.

For a time, Draco's birthright as preeminent Hogwarts student had been put in doubt by the arrival of Harry Potter. Suddenly, the lavish attention and praise that had been given him had shifted to the newcomer and his pair of friends. It had galled him that another was put above him and that had led to a bitter rivalry with the boy that had not gone his way at all.

But then the younger boy had been targeted by Sirius Black, and Potter was now either dead or a dark wizard, putting Draco back on top. To be honest, Draco had to admit he had felt a bit…upset when he'd heard his rival had been murdered or whatever, a sentiment he knew was unworthy of a Slytherin. But he'd quickly come to his senses, buried those weak feelings, and realized how events would turn out best for him.

And they had. That is, at least Draco had thought so until his nightmares had begun again.

Ever since he was young, Draco had sometimes felt that things weren't quite right, that everything was a little too perfect, that he was the star in a show being put on just for him and everyone else around him was just acting some role for his benefit. This unsettling though would sometimes give him nightmares, terrible, terrible nightmares, where the entire world unraveled around him. Over time, those night terrors had started to go away, lessening both in frequency and in intensity. Draco was settling into his role as a magical elite, one of the masters of the universe, until just a year or so after Potter had gone over to the dark side, the nightmares had returned.

Only, now they were worse than before. Not because they were any more intense, but because Draco was starting to be sure that these weren't really nightmares at all. They were real. And those actors playing a role in his life's story weren't playing that role for the benefit of young Draco Malfoy, no. _They_ were the true masters of the universe, possessed of magical powers beyond anything he could imagine. _They_ were the ones who could control the entire world on a whim with irresistible magic that could even control him if _They_ wanted. And _They_ had chosen Draco as their tool.

Draco had always thought that Slytherin was the best House. It was for the clever, cunning, and powerful—for those destined for greatness. Hufflepuff was for squibs, for those who did not belong in the magical world. Ravenclaw was for those who were clever, but not really that powerful. Gryffindor was for powerful idiots—like Potter.

But now, Draco knew better. Slytherin wasn't for the top of the heap. It was for middle management. It was, in truth, for the servants who knew whom they served. Which was at least a little better than being sheep who didn't even know they were being kept for shearing. Or perhaps kept for their meat. At least, that was what he had told himself. But now, really, if he were honest, Draco wasn't even sure if it were better to know his place as a cunning Slytherin pawn, or to be blindly ignorant as a blissful Gryffindor, not even aware that he was on a chessboard.

There was one thing Draco was sure of, though. If these nightmares were as real as he was becoming sure that they were, he was only valuable for as long as he could give the masters the things _They_ wanted. _They_ were seemingly omnipotent, but not omniscient or omnipresent—not true gods. That's why they needed him. He could watch when they weren't looking; see things too far above below them for them to notice. _They_ wanted him to be a spy for them, to ensure the loyalty of the others. _They_ were offering him the life of a powerful and privileged servant, and he'd take it and be grateful if he knew what were good for him. If he passed their tests.

Which was why he was out in the halls of Hogwarts watching Hermione Granger wander the hallways of Hogwarts. The Gryffindor was looking for something after hours, something she was hiding from teachers, from _Them_. She was the key to Draco's future.

Draco kept himself disillusioned and followed after her.

* * *

><p><em><em>01010100 01010100 01010100<em>_

* * *

><p>Eon and Harry perused the antiques within Borgin and Burkes, careful not to touch any of the items on the dusty shelves. While they had disabled the Program monitoring the store, preventing the AI known as Mr. Borgin from initiating, the security surrounding the artifacts on display had not been bypassed. Only on two items, a large cabinet and an ornate full length mirror, had they removed the security encryption. Those two items had been pulled out to the center of the room, but were for the moment inert, ordinary looking antiques.<p>

Harry shook his head as looked over the content of one of the display counters and reading the placards detailing the contents. It was a collection of animal parts from a veritable menagerie of mythical creatures, straight out of his Hogwarts curriculum. Fur from an East African nundu slain by King Arthur during his safari with Merlin. Twin feathers from a cockatrice that had been born beneath a blood moon and adopted by the sorceress Li Xuehua. Vampire fangs taken from a third generation scion of Vlad the Impaler. There were descriptions of the history of each magical creature from their birth to the harvesting of their body parts, each worthy of being the subject of their own movie.

"Take a look at all this," Harry said with a frown, surprised at the depth of detail in the descriptions. "I don't get why this place is _here_. Who is all this for? Who is going to see it?" It just didn't make any sense that a place like this where no human mind would likely ever come would be so elaborately furnished with fanciful details.

"It's used as a black market for exiled programs, like the ones we saw outside the building," Tonks answered from across the room by a display of various medieval weapons. "Exiles no longer receive software updates or add-ons through the Matrix system architecture, but the AI that were designed to write code for them can still create patches or upgrades. Backdoor areas such as this exist to allow brokers, like the Merovingian or the Rothschild, to arrange exchanges of information or services between Exiles and those inside or outside of the Matrix."

"From what we understand from our interactions with the Exiles and from hints dropped by some of our sources, most AI aren't designed to function in here," Eon added as he picked through a number of odd looking masks. "But events in here have great impact on what happens in the Machine City on the outside. It's pretty complicated, but control of information flowing from the Matrix, and the information itself, has become a sort of underground currency for the AI. It can determine which Programs get upgrades, which, become obsolete, and which get priority access to their shared resources. It's pretty serious for them."

"Most AI don't have enough influence to affect anything within the System itself, that's tightly regulated," Tonks continued, "but the services of Exiles inside the Matrix can be negotiated for. This," she said gesturing to the assortment of items, "is how they are paid."

Harry nodded, but he continued to frown. "I guess that makes sense, but then why all this elaborate back story for these items? Why not just label it 'Upgrade for Macintosh compatible AI' or something like that instead of these elaborate fake histories? To the Programs this is all just a bunch of text."

"First rule of the Matrix," Tonks replied while holding up a single finger.

"Don't talk about the Matrix?" Harry asked.

"Close," Eon said with a grin. "Every digital process that occurs in the Matrix has to have a virtual representation. Any bit of code that shows up in here has to appear in some form or another, and it must contribute to the illusion of the world. Even parts that human minds are never intended to access have virtual representations that a human would perceive as appropriate within the context they are in."

"That's not as catchy as 'don't talk about the Matrix'," Harry observed.

Tonks grinned at Harry and mimicked a cartoon face, her eyes growing impossibly large and her eyes literally became heart shaped. "Aw, you're so cute when you're stealing lines from ancient movies."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at her expression and cartoonish voice she added to it. "I gotta say, the Machines did get it right when they preserved our digital media. Whoever hacked in and got that for us should have a statue built to them. I can't imagine how people managed to survive in Zion before then. What did they do for entertainment back before the Truce?"

"Probably had a lot of sex," Tonks said with a suggestive wink.

Harry choked. Eon laughed at him.

"Tonks!" Harry protested.

"Well, you know it's true," Tonks said. "How else do you think 20 or so survivors become more than a million in a little more than a century?"

"We're freeing minds all the time," Harry replied.

Tonks smirked. "You think we did this? We've got just about 50 hovercrafts running missions now. To equal our current population level, each ship would have to free a mind every day of the year for a hundred years. The truth is, freed minds only make up 10% of our population. The other 90%? Made the good old-fashioned way."

Harry shook his head, conceding defeat, and turned back to the antiques in the shop as a way of changing the subject. "It's hard to believe that the Machines thought up all this stuff just to keep our minds occupied on the off chance someone would slip in here. It just doesn't seem like something they would do." Harry could scarcely believe a Program could come up with something like what he'd read.

"I don't think that's all there is to it," Eon said. "I think part of what we see in the Matrix is to explain system events, even moreso than we might think."

Harry looked at his friend in confusion. "What do you mean?

"Just think about it. Nobody in the Matrix ever actually dies of a car crash, do they? I mean they can't. There aren't really any cars there, it's all just a simulation. There isn't really an obesity problem leading to heart attacks, not when each person's real body is being drained of its stored energy. So why do deaths like those occur?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "I don't know. I thought they wanted to keep us alive to make more energy."

"Exactly. I think what's happening is that it's the Matrix assimilating the deaths of people in the real world into the virtual world. Whenever one of their pods malfunctions, or a glitch in the system causes someone to wake up, Programs inside the Matrix make it happen in the virtual world as well." Eon walked around the shop looking over more of the items as he explained his idea to Harry and Tonks. "One guy starts to wake up? There's a stroke or a heart attack. If a rogue Program infects a dozen hosts, there's a plane crash or a fire."

Tonks nodded her head. "That makes sense. It would look awfully suspicious if people just flopped over dead for no reason inside."

"And think about this, Harry," Eon continued. "Remember how Professor Binns would repeat that same lecture about 'modern' dark lords over and over?" At Harry's nod, the black haired young adult continued. "How long ago was the Great Cataclysm?"

Harry shrugged, "Eh, I never really paid attention for that lecture. Eighty something years ago?"

Eon nodded. "Now what _really_ happened eighty something years ago?"

It took Harry a second, but then his eyes went wide. "The War for Zion!"

"Right,," Eon agreed. "But more importantly for the Machines—"

"Blimey! Agent Smith taking over the entire Matrix," Tonks said with a quick intake of breath. "The Truce."

Eon nodded. "Tens of millions of minds were released all at once, and the rest were traumatized by having their minds invaded and subsumed by the Smith Program. They needed a story to cover up what they couldn't erase."

"Well, that I get." Harry groped for words to describe his continued dissatisfaction with things. "What I don't get is stuff like these stories about ancient magical creatures, they're not like the rest of the Matrix. It's sort of like my scar," Harry said, brushing the fringes of his thick, brown hair back over the mark that had set him apart from even the others at the school. Tonks and Eon looked over at the mark on his forehead. Even now that he knew that the mark in the real world looked more like a faint, faded scar than a brilliant lightning bolt he had been told was a birthmark, inside the virtual world it reverted to how he remembered it from Hogwarts. His mark of "greatness" the Headmaster had called it.

"I have a mark that needs to be explained, so they covered it up with a story. This is something the Matrix does really well. They take something we know already know and reproduce it, embellish it, or adapt it. But they don't make up anything new, not really, and the stories they do tell are always there for a purpose." Then Harry gestured over to a shelf containing dozens of odd magical artifacts including a flamboyant hat with a huge diatryma feather sticking out of it, a skullcap literally made of skull, and a cloak that appeared to shift colors from one second to the next. "These things, though..." They were just too interesting and creative for Harry to accept.

Eon nodded. "You're right, it does seem different. Maybe there's even more going on here than we first thought. Let's take a look at everything we can find, maybe we'll find something that will help us make sense of all of this. Maybe something will jump out at us."

* * *

><p><em><em>01010101 01010101 01010101<em>_

* * *

><p>For a city with an overpopulation problem, busting at the seams with people, Zion was a relatively safe place. There was little crime beyond the occasional petty theft. The Machines as an implacable enemy served to unite the remnants humanity in a way that they never had been able to when they had been the servants of mankind. Humans killing humans was rare, outside of the occasional Death Eater terrorist attack, and there was little profit trespassing on restricted areas.<p>

So, it was a surprise to the four guards assigned to guard the entrance to the barracks for visiting hovercraft crew members when a shadow rose up from the ground to form into a vision of a dark, cloaked man with burning red eyes. The figure began striding tall and purposefully into an area most certainly off-limits to non-military. One of the guards stepped forwards, a baton in hand to subdue any civilian who might actually resist, as unlikely as that was.

"You there! Stand where you are. This area is restricted to military personnel," the guard ordered tersely.

The shadowy figure, now joined by a second figure wearing a black robe of some kind following behind, ignored the warning and continued walking as if to pass straight by the guard. The man, a well built soldier, raised his baton, prepared to strike if the red-eyed man did not stand down, but he had no chance to do more than that.

"_Sleep_," the man shrouded in robes of blackness commanded, waving his hand negligently towards the guard.

The guard slumped to the ground where he stood, the baton clattering on stone as he fell.

Eyes wide, the other guards attempted to rush forward. "_Sleep_," the order came, the sound of it no louder than a conversational tone, yet compellingly insistent. With another gesture the remaining three joined their comrade in slumber. The second figure who had appeared from the shadows, clearly a woman from the shape of the cloak and her walk, came to stand beside the first.

The first dark robed figure paused a moment, looking up and around as if searching for something nearby. After a few seconds, the man turned his gaze back downward, inspecting his handiwork before looking back to his companion. "You are certain, Bella, that the boy is living here? There is nothing here but a faint trace."

"Yes, milord," the woman answered quickly. "He was definitely living here over the last few weeks. I..."

"Hey, what's going on here?!" came a cry of alarm as Bryce, a crewmen of a visiting hovercraft on a layover from Delphi, rounded the corner and came upon the scene. He took in the guards lying on the ground and the strangely garbed intruders with suspicion. When the taller of the two turned his head and revealed a pair of red, devilish eyes, the suspicion turned to fear.

Too late, Bryce turned to flee. "_Hold_," came the command. To the man's horror, he found his body suddenly rigid, even his mouth unable to move to form a cry for help. Frozen in place, all he could do was watch as the red-eyed figure and the woman in the dark cloak approached him, coming up to a very uncomfortable distance, the red eyes of the man whose cloak seemed to twist and melt in shadows were soon staring directly into his own.

"Tell me, Muggle," Voldermort said, his voice a quiet hiss, "do you know of a young boy by the name of Harry Potter?" Whether out of fear or defiance, the captured man remained silent. "_Speak_," Voldemort ordered.

"I—I—Yes, I do," Bryce said, even as he tried to resist the need to do as he was commanded.

"_Take me to him_," Voldemort commanded in the same eerie voice that had made the others sleep and had bound the man's movements.

Bryce quivered in place for a moment before suddenly gasping and collapsing to the ground on his knees. He looked up at the red-eyed man before him and shook his head. "I can't. I can't do it."

In an instant, the woman was there, in his face, her eyes wide and expression angry. "_**DO NOT DEFY THE DARK LORD! YOU WILL TAKE HIM TO HARRY POTTER!**_"

This was a yell, and Bryce found himself shaking almost uncontrollably as his body tried to obey the command. He felt a searing pain in his head before collapsing on the ground, blood pouring from his nose. "I don't know, I don't know!" the unfortunate man called out as he put his hands to his head.

"Bella, stop," Voldemort commanded. "That was unnecessary."

Immediately, Bryce's convulsions ended. "But he was resisting your Compelling, milord," Bella complained. "I can make him obey you, I know I can."

"Yes, Bella, he was trying to resist the Compelling, but failing. This Muggle would have taken us to the boy if he could. You should know that Compelling someone to do what they are unable to do strains the body and mind," Voldemort looked down on the man now cowering at his feet. "It would be unwise to waste a source of information by damaging him."

"Yes, of course, milord," Bella bowed her head contritely.

Voldemort, still looking down at the man unfortunate to come upon him on his trip into Zion with a mix of pity and dislike. He hated Muggles. They were stupid, foolish, cruel, and weak. But this one had suffered enough under the pressure of Bellatrix's forceful Compelling. So, he was gentle, lifting the man up so that he could sit comfortably, though still gripping him on the shoulder.

"You do not know where Harry Potter is," Voldemort stated as much as asked, though the man shook his head in answer. "But you do know _who_ he is." This time the man nodded, needing no Compelling to give the answer. Voldemort frowned. "Can you tell me where he went?"

Bryce, breathing heavily, looked up at the man with devilish red eyes. For a moment, he considered refusing to answer, but then, shuddering, thought better of it. "I don't rightly know. All I know is that there was an uproar about the kid, Harry Potter, being kidnapped and some crazy story about him being born in Zion but rescued from the Matrix or some such. But they left again a few days before our crew got in."

So. That confirmed it. Bella's story was accurate. Voldemort did not doubt his most loyal follower's honesty, but her familiarity with the technical side of things was a bit…lacking.

"Very good. And do you know where Harry Potter and those he was with were going?" Voldemort continued, softly.

Bryce shrugged. "Can't be sure, could have been heading back to New Salem. That's where the _Lupin_ is stationed. But they were in port long enough to get a full charge, could be they're making a run."

"A run?" Voldemort asked, unfamiliar with the term.

"Yeah, into the Matrix. They say ole' Sirius found some kind of top secret special location or something where the rules are different. Like magic, word is." Bryce saw the scarlet eyes flash, and hastily added, "That's what some say, is all."

Voldemort abruptly released the man and stood up with a snarl on his lips. "The fools! They're taking him back There!" Now ignoring his captive as if he didn't exist, Voldemort turned to Bellatrix. "We must move quickly. Summon my followers. We must find Harry Potter, and soon. I will not let Them have him. The boy will be mine or he will die."

"Yes, milord," Bella said with a bow. "What about them, milord," she asked, indicating the sleeping guards and their fifth captive, "should I take care of them?"

"Yes, see to it," Voldemort said, as he walked into the shadows and disappeared within them.

Bryce looked over to where the man with red eyes had vanished and shook his head in denial. "This is a dream. Just a bad nightmare. It can't be real," he muttered to himself rocking himself back and forth.

"That's right, this is all just a bad dream," Bella said soothingly as she walked over to the man, a wicked smile on her face. Now that Bryce could see her up close, he realized she was beautiful. Probably insane, by the manic gleam in her eyes, but darkly beautiful in a wild way. She tilted her head as she approached Bryce, and the expression on her face was not encouraging. "Don't worry, little Muggle, you won't even remember this at all," she cooed.

There was a flash of light and then blackness.

* * *

><p><em><em>01010111 01010111 01010111<em>_

* * *

><p>Harry, Eon, and Tonks had spent the last twenty minutes waiting in Borgin and Burkes, split between looking through items on the shelves and preparing the code for their next entrance. It was always dangerous remaining inside the Matrix too long. No matter how clean an initial hack, the programs monitoring it for intrusions or anomalies would eventually discover the data streams of the hackers and investigate, often through Agents. In cases such as this, when contact with a target could not be maintained from the outside and they needed an intermediate location inside to do so, a "safehouse" needed to be established. This involved hacking monitoring programs, configuring communications lines, and subverting the protocols meant to disguise direct interface from human minds into creating a stealth environment into which a hacker team could piggyback a hardline transmission into. On this front, Eon worked in tandem with Shaq, who was serving as Operator back on the ship. It was their job to systematically create this foothold for the crew of the <em>Lupin<em> to come back to on short notice if contact wasn't made within the window of opportunity they had now.

Harry and Tonks were cataloguing the contents of the store, noting both the actual function of the code in terms of its interaction within the Matrix, as well as the visual features and their descriptions. They were having a bit of fun reading out particularly interesting descriptions of some of the artifacts. Having now disabled all of the subroutines detecting tampering with the items, the pair were taking turns pointing out particularly interesting or creative items to each other.

"How about this one," Harry called out, lifting out a shining, partly translucent heavy shield from off of a dusty shelf. "Apparently, this is an 'Eladrin Crafted Twilight Heavy Shield', made in 1247AD, which allows the wielder to use magic and armor without fear of arcane spell failure... What is that even supposed to mean?"

"I have no idea," Tonks laughed. "But this, I have a good idea about!" In turn, the older teen pulled out black leather whip and gave it a crack. "Formerly owned by Her Majesty, Jadis, Witch Queen of Charn, ruler of the North and last of the Giant-Jinn race. Used to drive her white reindeer sleigh during the Endless Winter."

With that, Tonks morphed her face into that of the imperious queen's portrait which was included with the item's description, her hair lengthening and turning blond to match the image. "On Rudolph, on Dancer!" She cracked the whip a few times more while Harry laughed along. "Oh, this is fun!"

Then a crafty look stole across Tonks' face and the clothing she wore shifted from the royal riding gown in the painting, to that of a dominatrix's leather and stockings. "You've been a bad boy, Harry Potter, and I'm going to make you pull my sleigh while I punish you…"

Harry barely kept himself from falling on the floor laughing. She looked so convincing. "Tonks, I didn't know you could alter your clothing as well as your body."

Tonks shrugged shoulders and tossed her blond hair around playfully. "Clothing here is just another aspect of residual self image. Just as easy for me to change my dress as hair color. Do you like?" The last bit she said as she modeled the outfit suggestively.

"I don't know, I kinda think your normal look is prettier," Harry said with a grin, "but I do have to admit that outfit is more fetching than the White Witch's—Hang on!" Harry suddenly sobered up and ran over to take a quick look at the collection of items behind Tonks. Sure enough, he immediately recognized a crystal vial, a bow and arrow, an intricately carved ivory horn, and a sword and shield. "These are from _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_!"

"What is it, Harry?" Eon asked from where he was working, a virtual laptop computer set up and plugged into a space in the wall where there hadn't been a connection before.

"I knew it," Harry said emphatically. "All this description, all this creativity, it doesn't come from the Programs. It comes from us. That's what they…"

Harry never finished that sentence.

"Harry?" a familiar voice called out.

Harry Potter dashed over to where a duplicate of the Mirror of Erised stood in the center of the store. As soon as he arrived, a giant grin plastered all over his face. In the mirror he could see his own reflection, but in addition to that was the image of his best female friend as well. Until this point he had only been able to see code representing her, or 3D models that were not quite the same.

"Hermione! You found it. Brilliant!" Harry said with a grin.

"Harry, how are you doing this? Where are you?" Hermione asked.

Her reflection was older, more physically developed. She wasn't the young girl he had met that first day at the train station. She was a young woman in her own right, he could see. The physical awkwardness she had displayed before had given way to a more mature appearance, her hair now brushed into an attractive shoulder length style. What a difference just a year or two made.

"Hermione, we've only got a little time, and I've got loads to tell you. If all goes according to plan I'll see you for _real_ in a short while." Harry paused, raising a hand preempting the questions he knew his friend had. "Hermione, you're in terrible danger."

* * *

><p>.<p>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong> We're getting into the last stretch and things will be coming together rapidly. Hopefully there will be a surprise or two left before the end. If there are any lingering questions about what things mean, I'd welcome PMs or reviews. And one more note I should probably have put in early: I'm using the Daniel Radcliffe look (brown hair) for Harry with brown hair mostly because it contrasts with the Keanu Reeves look (black hair) Eon has going._


	22. Chapter 22: Misdirection

**Chapter 22: Misdirection**

* * *

><p><em>01011000 01011000 01011000<em>

* * *

><p>Hermione Granger bit her lip in nervousness. She was a good student. A rule-abiding student. She was respectful, obedient, and diligent in her studies. But right now, she was a student out of bed after curfew.<p>

_Find the mirror_, Harry had told her. At least, she hoped it was really Harry. Back in their first year at the Hogwarts Harry had stumbled upon an ancient magical mirror, a mirror that showed a person the dreams and desires of their hearts. He had shown Ron the mirror first, but then a few days later, had snuck her in to see the artifact. That was the first time she had ever broken a school rule on purpose. It was part of a lot of firsts for her involving Harry.

When she had been placed in the orphanage after her parents' accident and still then when she was placed with her adoptive family, the Grangers, the doctors and family services people had a word for her: maladaptive. Nothing had seemed right to her since then, and so she had withdrawn into her own mind, and into reading.

That was, until Harry Potter. Harry was her first friend, ever. When he had greeted her and taken her hand on the train to Hogwarts the first time, the brown haired bookworm had instantly recognized the _rightness_ of it. There was also Ron Weasley, of course, who was comforting to be around despite the red head being a bit thick about anything that didn't involve chess or Quidditch. But Harry Potter had been her lifeline while she learned about how it was magic that caused her to feel so strangely about everything and that there was nothing wrong with her.

She was quite glad she was a witch, otherwise she would have gone mental. Hermione loved magic. She loved Hogwarts, and was so very happy to be a good, studious girl. Because of magic, everything was fine.

Except...that Harry was not in her life now.

With a worried glance around the hall, Hermione stepped into the room. There it was, the Mirror of Erised, the artifact she was looking for. Good, no other student had found it this night. The Headmaster moved it around from time to time to keep any one student from spending too much time in front of it and wasting away, as he had said.

Erised. That was simply the word 'desire' spelled backwards. Not quite a reflection, but it did give an indication of what the mirror did. And Hermione knew what she wanted most of all. She pulled the heavy linen sheet off of the large, full length mirror and let if fall away. The Hermione stood in front of the object and looked. There she was. But…she was alone.

"Harry?" she called out tentatively.

Instead of seeing her friend blur into existence beside her as she had expected, based on her experience from her last time using the mirror, Harry Potter suddenly leaned into the image as if walking in from the side of it. That was odd, but okay. Because, there he was, that familiar grin plastered all over his face, and immediately her heart blossomed in warmth, that same _rightness_ she had felt the first time she had met him. It had been so long.

"Hermione! You found it. Brilliant!" Harry said with a grin.

"Harry, how are you doing this? Where are you?" she asked.

His reflection was older, there was an edge of maturity and strength there he hadn't had before. And he was dressed, oddly, like an American from a spy movie if she had to describe it. There was also a glint of something in his eyes, a look that warned of danger and intrigue. Though there was no harshness to his gaze, Harry had the look of someone who was in trouble and knew what death looked like, or so she would imagine such a person would look. What a difference just a year or two made.

"Hermione, we've only got a little time, and I've got loads to tell you. If all goes according to plan I'll see you for _real_ in a short while." Hermione was confused. How could Harry be doing this? Was it even real? Wasn't this just what she would want to see in the mirror? Harry paused, raising a hand preempting her questions. "Hermione, you're in terrible danger."

Danger? "Harry, I'm in Hogwarts. Dumbledore would never let anything happen to any of us."

"Hermione, listen, Hogwarts isn't safe, not for you, not anymore," Harry said with some urgency. "Dumbledore wants to keep you there, and as long as you obey him you won't be killed, but you won't ever be free, either. And because he knows that I want to save you, he'll be watching you carefully."

What was Harry saying? It sounded ludicrous. Albus Dumbledore holding her captive, hurting her if she didn't obey? She know the old wizard was powerful and dangerous, but the old, grandfatherly man would never hurt a student. It was obvious that Harry was confused.

He was the one who needed help and she was the only one who could help her.

"Save me? No, Harry, I'm fine here. Nobody is trying to hurt me. You are the one who needs to be saved. Please, Harry, come back. Wherever you are, whatever you've done, Professor Dumbledore can get you out of it." Hermione clasped her hands together as she pleaded with him to return. Maybe, just maybe there would be some kind of unknown magic that would make her wish come true.

And then John Anderson entered the image within the mirror and Hermione gasped. "Hello, Hermione," he said with a wave. "Long time no see."

"John," she said, a tremor entering her voice. "Why did you have to drag poor Harry into it?" Suddenly she felt angry at John, an irrational burning anger she hadn't known had been there. "Did you promise him to Black to make him spare you? Is that why you sold out your friend?!" She wanted to KILL him.

John shook his head. "That's not what happened, Hermione. Not even close."

"Listen, Hermione," Harry said, and her anger vanished as soon as she looked at her friend. "John didn't get me into anything. He got me out of it. He and…some friends freed me."

"Freed you from what?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione," John began, "have you ever felt like the world around you was wrong? Have you ever felt that things were not as real as they were supposed to be?" Hermione's eyes went wide. She had never told that to anyone. Not even Harry. "I see that you have. That's probably why you were chosen for Hogwarts in the first place."

"I was chosen for Hogwarts because I'm a witch," Hermione retorted.

"And I'm a wizard," Harry continued, "and John was apparently a squib. And what we all sensed that was wrong with the world was our magic. Right?"

Hermione could only nod her head. Of course that was right. It was the only thing that could be right.

"It's all a lie, Hermione. Worse, it's one lie on top of another one. I can't prove it to you yet, not from here, but I can show you the truth, Hermione. That's what I'm here to do."

"They lied about our deaths," John pointed out. "You know they lied both about what happened to me and Harry in the wizard newspaper."

"The Daily Prophet," Harry supplied helpfully.

"And think about what you know of your friend—would he betray you? You only know me a little, but I _know_ that you believe in Harry. So, please, trust us now."

Hermione's heart was pounding in her chest. This wasn't some projection of her heart's desire as she had first thought it might be. While she certainly wanted to see Harry again, she definitely did not want him to say these things. Harry had said the things the things she believed about her life were a lie, and that was something she just could not accept.

"I know this is hard to hear, but it's the only way, and time is short, Hermione. This is what we need you to do," Harry said.

And this was the choice Hermione had feared. Harry was going to ask her to choose between him and Hogwarts. The worst thing was, she wasn't sure what she would decide.

* * *

><p><em>010110001 01011001 01011001<em>

* * *

><p>"She's a pretty girl, your friend," Tonks said as soon as soon as Harry and Eon had stepped away from the mirror.<p>

"Yeah, she looks a lot more grown up now than, you know, before," Harry said. "But there's no way of knowing if she'll really look like that when we get her out, is there?"

Tonks looked over at Harry, surprised he didn't know about this. "Actually, we can be pretty sure that's exactly what she'll look like. The Matrix gives us pretty accurate sensory data, of course only virtual approximations, but still very accurate. Residual Self Image is pretty much our view of ourselves overlaid on top of our mental interpretation of the data our minds receive." A moment later, Tonks' face morphed into Hermione's. "In my case, my mind is able to completely override the data, imposing the image I want on the code representing my appearance."

Harry nearly had to pick himself up off the floor seeing Hermione's face speaking with Tonks' voice and with Tonks' more fully developed (and augmented) body. "Um, Tonks, can you not do that?"

After a moment where she smiled at Harry puckishly and watched him blush, Tonks let her face morph back into her original form. "What's the matter? Afraid you'll start having 'inappropriate' dreams?"

"Um, yeah," Harry answered sheepishly. "Pretty much that."

Eon chuckled loudly. "Guess you have some competition for Harry's affection there, Tonks," he joked.

"Is that true, Harry? Do you have your heart set on your friend?" Tonks asked in mock sadness. "Is that why you haven't given in completely to my charms?"

Harry's face reddened. "It's not like that," Harry answered with a little heat. "We're just friends. Best of friends, but still just friends."

Tonks frowned for a moment, turning serious, her hair returning to its normal hue in response. "Does Hermione know that?"

Harry Potter looked at Tonks puzzled. "What? Of course she does. I mean, we were friends for three years, I think she'd know…"

The younger girl gave Harry a considering look and cut him off. "Harry, you know your friend is taking a huge risk for you. Don't you think she might be doing it out of something more than just friendship?"

Harry paused a moment. He knew how he felt, but did he really know what was in the heart of Hermione? He quickly thought about Hermione and all the time they'd spent together those years at Hogwarts. They were very close, and she did tend to hug him and Ron a lot, but that could be the same friendship he felt for her, but you know, girl-style. So, he shrugged.

"You know, I can't be sure. Maybe she does have some feelings for me more than just being a friend. And if she does, well, it couldn't hurt to see how it goes once we get her free and things settle down. But I don't think so. And even if it is, that's okay. No matter what happens, she's my friend and I'm her friend. Nothing will ever change that."

With that, Harry pulled out the cloak they had loaded into the System when they entered the Matrix and pulled it over his shoulders. It was a wrapper program. It wrapped the code representing the data stream of his consciousness as it entered and interacted with the code inside the Matrix and encapsulated it as a different type of process, one identical to that which Programs used, included the same sort of encryption found within Hogwarts. To any observing Machine, he might as well be invisible, just another running process within the System. Humans would still see him and react to him as they would normally, though.

Which was why Eon handed him a small bottle. "Alright, Harry, make sure you stick to the plan. You'll need at least two minutes alone with her in order to initiate the trace."

"After that, I get out of the castle and get to the nearest Exit," Harry said, nodding.

Tonks looked at Harry while he was preparing himself, and there were almost tears in her eyes. As much as she liked to tease Harry, she really did care for him and hated that he was the one who would be taking the greatest risk here. He wasn't exactly a newbie anymore; they had gone on a few missions leading up to this critical extraction, performing a few data collection runs, initiating a few meetings to facilitate things for other teams, and even one tense encounter with one of the intermediary Programs that had covert dealings with Zion. But this time, Harry would be going on ahead into danger alone, and without a safety net.

Harry knew it too. He looked at his friends one more time, drawing in a deep breath to steady his nerves. It had to be him. Only he and Eon were actually keyed into Hogwarts Castle. Apparently, that authorization was permanent, keyed into their minds in a way that could not be duplicated or undone. But Harry knew the castle much better than Eon, and Harry knew Hermione much, much better than anyone else. Everything would be fine. He could do this.

"I'll be back," Harry said with a smile, giving Eon a firm handshake. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck, Harry," his friend said dutifully.

Tonks opened her arms up to give Harry a hug. "You better come back in one piece, Harry Potter."

"Don't worry," Harry answered with a cheeky grin. And then he shocked everyone, including himself when he put both of his hands on each of her cheeks and pulled her close to plant a loud kiss on her lips. "When I bring Hermione back, you'll both be able to fight over me." Harry turned with a wink from a completely shocked Tonks.

And then Harry stepped into the Vanishing Cabinet.

* * *

><p><em>01011010 01011010 01011010<em>

* * *

><p>Hermione was more confused than she could ever remember being. It was like she had two voices competing against each other: Harry's and, oddly enough, Professor Binns's. She knew deep in her heart that Harry Potter was her friend, that he was <em>good<em>. He would never ask her to do anything that would hurt her. It was impossible that he was a dark wizard.

_One of the most troubling things about the dark arts is how seductive they are, how they twist a once good person into evil. That is what history tells us, Miss Granger. Dark wizards, whether they be dark lords or not, still believe that they are good. They believe what they are doing is right and that it is the rest of the world that is wrong._

Harry had said some very upsetting things. Everything she knew was a lie? Dumbledore was her enemy? Hogwarts was not safe for her? Despite her doubt, she would follow Harry's advice until she made up her mind. She owed Harry at least that much.

_Hermione, I need you to get to the Seventh Floor, but without being seen by any of the portraits or the professors. You can't trust any of them._

According to the rules, she wasn't even supposed to have met with a suspected dark wizard, much less help him. It was her duty as a witch to report any sort of dangerous magic to a professor. It was her responsibility as a Gryffindor to courageously come forward and expose any threat to the school to her Head of House. It was her obligation as a Fifth Year prefect to alert the Headmaster if there were any signs of a dark wizard within the school.

_And most tragically of all, they all, inevitably target the very ones they love, believing they are helping them. But ultimately they destroy those close to them… If they cannot seduce those they love into joining them in practicing the dark arts and destroy their lives that way, they end up killing them in the attempt to convince them. And from that point, there is no turning back._

But this was _Harry_, she was talking about, not some murderer like Sirius Black. She had just seen Harry and could feel his concern for her, no matter how misguided he had become. He wasn't a dark wizard yet. Hermione made her way through the castle, still empty this time of night, walking carefully so as not to be seen by any painting, at least not until she was sure what she was going to do. Maybe he was doing magic he shouldn't do, maybe he was involved in things that were illegal, but he wasn't beyond hope.

_If you even feel like you're being watched, then wait. Wait until the feeling passes, and then go. I will see you there, and I'll save you, you'll see._

Harry really did want to do the right thing, and that was what mattered. He wanted to save her. Hermione clutched on to this thought. Yes, she could help him. That was what she had to do. With renewed purpose, Hermione made her way through the corridors of the school. She was no longer afraid, no longer conflicted. She _would_ be Harry's friend. She knew what a good student, what a good friend would do. And Hermione was a good girl.

She opened the door.

* * *

><p><em>01011011 01011011 01011011<em>

* * *

><p>Harry stepped out from the vanishing cabinet, carefully looking around. He was in a room filled with abandoned objects: books, clothing, discarded bits of toys strewn all about. Somewhere, a clock struck two, a loud chime signaling the time. If all had gone according to plan, he would be seeing Hermione in a few more minutes. Unfortunately, there was no way to monitor her inside the confines of Hogwarts. The attempt to use her history book as a means of tracking her had worked for only a few hours before they had been forced to shut down the connection lest it be discovered.<p>

Harry looked back at the vanishing cabinet he had just emerged from, slowly examining it from this side. It was an exact match to the one back in Borgin and Burkes. It functioned similarly to the various backdoors the Programs had established throughout the Matrix, codes hidden within the tumblers leading to a network of interconnected doors. Unfortunately, those in Hogwarts were all outgoing, all incoming pathways blocked without authorization of the school's architect—the Headmaster. The vanishing cabinet inside Hogwarts, however, was not part of the Hogwarts System, itself being something of an "in-between" subsystem interconnected with both Hogwarts and the rest of "Magical Britain" backdoor access systems.

The backdoor systems were, of course, monitored. It had been Tonks' idea to overwrite the reference pointer of the instance of the vanishing cabinet in Borgin and Burkes with the reference pointer of the instance within Hogwarts. Eon had explained it as similar to giving a cellphone the same MAC address and IP as another phone, essentially cloning it. The effect was that stepping into the one in Borgin and Burkes was exactly the same as stepping into the one in Hogwarts, and since there was a conflict of references and only the Hogwarts cabinet was correctly configured, the Hogwarts cabinet was the only one that could be stepped out of, and the System was none the wiser.

Unfortunately, that meant that Harry would need to exit Hogwarts another way once the trace on Hermione was completed.

"Harry?" a voice called from across the room.

Harry stepped out from behind the vanishing cabinet. "Hermione!"

It was her. She had come.

"Harry!" Hermione called back from across the room. He could see her bite her lip, a clear sign of hesitation.

"It's okay, Hermione. I'll explain everything."

"Harry, I'm sorry, but, I had to. But don't worry, it's going to be alright, Harry. Dumbledore promised he would save you. It's not too late for you yet! He really wants you to come back to Hogwarts!"

A chill feeling swept through Harry. "Hermione, you didn't—"

"Oh, but I'm afraid she did," the voice of the Headmaster came with a cheerful tone that belied the meaning behind it. "Miss Granger cares a great deal for your welfare, in her own way perhaps even as much as I do, Mister Potter."

Where before there had only been empty space next to Hermione, Harry could now make out the difference in the code, just before the form of Albus Dumbledore became visible within the simulation. Harry could visibly see lines of code within the walls of the room flowing into the Headmaster, he could see the control the man had over the virtual environment. It was total.

"Oh, Hermione," Harry shook his head sadly. "You've doomed us both."

"No, Harry, he's here to help you. See, since you haven't killed or managed to corrupt those you care about with Dark Magic yet there's still hope for you! That's what I told the Headmaster, and he agreed! So you see, he cares about you just like I do," Hermione said, taking a step towards Harry.

"You don't understand, Hermione. He's not a person. There's no hope or caring in his heart. He's not like us at all," Harry said, backing away from the obviously powerful Program. He knew it was futile, but he drew his wand anyway.

"No, Harry, you're wrong, just put down your wand and…"

"Actually, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, moving behind Hermione with inhuman speed, "Mister Potter is completely correct."

Harry saw a look of total surprise on Hermione's face just before her eyes rolled back in her head. She collapsed back into the Headmaster's arms, _stupefied_.

"As you know, Mister Potter, I have would have no compunction at all in snapping your friends' neck, which we both know would result in her termination out in the real world. As you said, I am not human. So now, you have a choice. Surrender yourself willingly and you will not only spare her, but thousands of others, an unnecessarily premature death. Erasing this memory from her mind will be much easier and less damaging than the alternative."

Harry stood there, seething.

"Now, all you have to do is lay down your wand and give me the coordinates of your ship, and I will arrange for your capture. You don't even need to participate in their capture. I am even willing to instruct the sentinels we will send to disable your ship _not_ to kill your crew mates." The white haired "wizard" had an affable expression on his face that Harry knew was entirely fake. "If you resist, though, I will take the information from your mind forcefully and then they will all die. The choice, as it were, is yours, Mister Potter."

Harry stared over from Hermione to Dumbledore, back to the wand in his hand. It was too difficult a choice. Harry couldn't imagine how he could choose between saving his friends and fighting for what he believed—

* * *

><p><em>01011111 01011111 01011111<em>

* * *

><p>Harry stepped out of the Vanishing Cabinet. He was in a room filled with abandoned objects, books, clothing, discarded bits of toys strewn all about. Somewhere, a clock struck two, a loud chime signaling the time.<p>

Realization of what had just happened struck Harry like a crystal ball shattering on the floor.

"Oh, bloody hell."


	23. Chapter 23: Oracle Revisited

**Chapter 23: Oracle Revisited  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>01100000 01100000 01100000<em>

* * *

><p>Professor Sybill Trelawney, Divinations teacher at the Hogwarts School of Magic checked the cuckoo clock hanging on the classroom wall before pulling out a black cloth and draping it over four adjoining tables set in the center of the classroom to turn them into a dining table. With a flick of her wand, a tea service appeared in the center of the table and two spotless sets of porcelain saucers and cups appeared on opposite sides of the cloth. Trelawney hummed a light Muggle tune as she moved around the classroom, arranging the various crystal balls and sundry divination knick-knacks for optimum effect before moving back to take a seat behind the desks she had arranged.<p>

She felt a little trepidation concerning the upcoming encounter. Or, in other words, the uncertainty index for this particular Event included a large number of unfavorable outcomes with non-negligible probabilities, to the extent that the Professor's task priority function was assigning an increasing number of resources towards predicting the most likely event threads which would lead to self survival. Trelawney preferred calling it trepidation.

The professor sat down just as the globe above the door began to radiate the slight hue of light that indicated a presence outside the doorway. So, it was time, within expectation.

The door opened after a brief knock, and Trelawney looked over at the black skinned boy who walked in. All the parameters for the student before her matched perfectly with those of a young student named Dean Thomas, one of her 2nd Year Divinations Gryffindors: correct skin tone, height, fingerprints, brainwave patterns. Dean Thomas was a promising boy for the Headmaster's program, though not nearly in the same league as the so-called Golden Trio in terms of the critical factor, and entirely without the Gift when it came to divinations. Dean Thomas was also supposed to be in Professor Binns' class now.

Trelawney placed her hands carefully on her desk and gave her student a warm smile. "Hello, Harry Potter. Welcome back to the Divinations classroom."

The hand that looked like it belonged to Dean Thomas shot into the student's robes faster than should have been humanly possible and produced a wand. Trelawney did not react, simply maintained her smile and kept her eyes on the dangerous former student in front of her. So, it was true, he had broken the parameters of human ability set by the System. Not quite to the extent of the other 'anomaly', as her colleagues liked to term them, but certainly enough to make predicting tactical situations problematic if it came to that.

"Hello, Oracle." It was Harry who answered, though the voice perfectly matched that of Dean Thomas. "How did you know?"

"Well, I wouldn't be much of a Seer if I couldn't see this coming, now would I," she answered back with the smile on her face constant. After a short, uncomfortable period, the Divinations Professor added, "Once it was confirmed that you had the Gift, it was only a question of _when_ you would use it and how far you could see. You're a bright student; you'd surely realize the ramifications of the Inner Eye and seek me out." Trelawney turned her gaze from Harry Potter in the guise of Dean Thomas to pull out a Muggle cigarette. She put it to her mouth and lit it with the tip of her finger, the flame igniting but not burning her skin or nails. "As I recall, at one point in your studies you were wondering how well you would do in a class with a fraud for a teacher." She blew smoke towards the boy. "Turned out alright, if you ask me."

As the smoke settled over Harry, his features blurred and twisted, the darker skin of Dean Thomas lightening to the much paler hues that belonged to Harry Potter. There he was. The brown-haired boy with the mark of power on his forehead and the brilliant green eyes she remembered. Harry glanced down as his features returned to their original form with some alarm. "Oh, don't worry, this is just a glamour, a lot more temporary than the method you used to fool the castle, and won't affect the shell you created to protect your identity. It'll wear off by the time you walk back out that door."

With a gesture, Trelawney had the tea set begin filling the cups with pumpkin juice. Wizards didn't go much for tea. A plain white saucer of shortbread floated over to the plates set out at the table. He wouldn't take them, especially knowing what Programs could put into food, but it was only polite to offer. "Please, Harry, have a seat. There won't be any interruptions up here, and unless you did something unexpectedly foolish on your way over to the classroom, there aren't any alarms going off anywhere right now."

Harry shook his head and remained standing, which Trelawney had figured at being of 94% likelihood at this juncture, but not a good sign to be sure. It was always best when they decided to sit down. "I saw Hermione betray me to Dumbledore, Professor. The Headmaster will be searching the castle for me."

"Right to business, then. I see your time with Mister Black has changed you a bit," Trelawney noted. "Yes, most likely the Headmaster will make a search for you, though when he finds that you are not in that room on the seventh floor, he'll assume that you were alerted to what Hermione did and aborted your mission. Dumbledore will have no reason to guess that instead that you've switched targets instead, and that it is Ronald Weasley who you will save now. If you can."

Harry held his wand on the Divinations professor and nodded his head. "But you do. You can see and predict choices that he cannot." Harry's eyes narrowed, a very poor omen, and Trelawney's more favorable outcomes dipped to under 47% likelihood.

"Which is why you came here," Trelawney said, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice, her eyes never once leaving the young man in front of her, her hands perfectly steady as she placed the tea cup back on her saucer and her hands carefully back on the table. "I'm a threat," she said simply. "I can understand human choices in a way no other Program can. So long as I am here and I can do that, it is possible for the Headmaster to use me against you."

"Right, Professor," Harry agreed, angling his wand more sharply towards the Oracle. "Usually I wouldn't say sorry to an AI, I guess because I don't think it would really mean anything, and I usually wouldn't care, but I feel it's right to say sorry to you. So, sorry."

"Thank you, Harry, and it does mean something to me, even if that meaning only comes down to being a series of ones and zeroes in the end. But before you do what it is you're going to do, there are a few things I ought to explain to you."

Trelawney watched as the wand eased away from her. Thirty eight threads of events leading to her termination were removed from the equation. There were still ways this could go badly if the intuitive algorithms were wrong about Harry's choices, but the probabilities shifted once again toward more positive endings. 73.6 percent likely, to be precise.

* * *

><p><em>01100001 01100001 01100001<em>

* * *

><p>Remus ran his fingers through Harry's hair. There was something comforting in the action as the young boy lay unconscious, jacked into the Matrix system through the ship's computers. To Harry's left was Eon and to his right was Tonks. The three youngest, least experienced members of the crew were now inside performing the most dangerous mission the <em>Lupin<em> had ever undertaken. He hated that. It should have been him and Sirius in there.

But that was impossible. The Machines were using some kind of artificial enzyme to mark human minds authorized for the "magical" areas, without which forging a signal able to evade detection for more than a couple minutes would be problematic. Unless a person had been marked by the System while still part of it, as Harry, Tonks and Eon had been, getting into the restricted areas was not an option. Of course, this method of identification would be meaningless if the Machines tried to use it on the entire Matrix population, since all hackers were originally freed minds and would have had the enzyme, but as a means of marking a subgroup, it was so far effective. Perhaps Zion would one day be able to synthesize the enzyme, but that didn't help them now. Remus didn't have it, so there was no way he could go in to support them this time.

"Try not to fret so much, Remus," Sirius said with a reassuring smile. "They'll be fine. They're good kids with great instincts. They'll be able to pull this off. You have to trust them, Remus."

"But they're still just kids," Remus sighed. "They shouldn't have to face this yet."

"I know," Sirius said as he looked over at Tonks lying peacefully in recline with a data probe sticking in the back of her head, "but they're the only ones who can do this. And we'll be able to monitor what's going on from here."

Remus nodded. There really wasn't anything else they could do.

He looked over at his friend, his oldest friend, and the only person who really understood what he had been through. They had shared a nightmare together before being freed: the Asylum. Sirius had been committed for ranting about people becoming animals. Remus had claimed to have seen and been bitten by a werewolf. Reporting things like this to the police had seemed a good idea at the time. When the torture began, the attempts to make them believe they hadn't experienced what they had, they began to suspect they had made a bit of a mistake. The experiments that had been done on the pair of them in that place before Sirius had managed to escape his bonds and break them both out would probably haunt him for the rest of his life, but the camaraderie they shared because of that almost made it worth the suffering.

What a find for Zion the captain had been. Sirius wasn't gifted in the same way as Potentials were, he couldn't see the code or manipulate it by force of will, but he was a brilliant when it came to understanding what the Machines were trying to do, what they were trying to hide. Like many others, Sirius didn't buy into the explanation that the entire purpose of the Matrix was to pacify humanity while they used people as batteries, which meant that there was something else going on, and a deeper reason for many of the things that were happening. The success Sirius had had in discovering odd experiments being done on captive minds had lead to the recruitment of not less than half a dozen Potentials, and other exceptional minds, like Tonks.

Remus had joined up with the military after Sirius had joined. When Sirius had been made captain of one of the newer hovercrafts, Remus had signed aboard without hesitation.

It had been the discovery of Tonks that led them to the hidden "magical" world, by far the largest and most critical special section of the Matrix any hovercraft captain had uncovered since the discovery of the backdoors which Neo had shared with Morpheus nearly a century earlier. The Machines had managed to keep secret an entire parallel system interwoven with the rest of the Matrix for decades, until Sirius had managed to recruit and free Tonks right out from under the noses of the Programs. It was lucky this took place after she had already been taken into the magical system, but before she had disappeared completely, or they might never have found out about it.

Sirius Black had already been one of the most wanted hackers in the Matrix; this had vaulted him to number one, a fact Sirius delighted in. Escaped mental patient. Armed and dangerous. Mass murderer. Terrorist. These public warnings were par for the course for successful hackers, worn as badges of honor among Zion's military. But when Sirius got the title of "dark wizard", he was in a league of his own.

Eon wasn't the first "magical" that Sirius or Tonks had approached, just the first one they had been successful at saving. Most of the others had either been killed by Agents, and the blame for their death put on Sirius, or had been possessed by Agents in an attempt to capture him. The deaths were heartbreaking, but each failure had led to more information on this sub-Matrix and its special rules, making each next attempt smoother. Now here they were, deeper into this hidden partition than ever before and about to free another mind.

Remus was proud of his friend, proud of his part in this effort, and even more proud of his three crewmates who were now risking their lives at such a young age. Especially Harry. Harry Potter who was still so young, yet didn't even hesitate to risk his life to retrieve his friends. Harry who had barely been back in the real world a few months when he had decided to join them. Harry who was leaving the room he was supposed to stay in.

"What the hell is Harry doing?" Sirius grumbled.

The plan was for Harry to meet his friend, Hermione, in the secure room and start the Trace there. While the Trace completed, Harry would get back to Borgin and Burkes, where the three of them would use the vanishing cabinet to take them straight to an Exit where they could disconnect safely. The plan did not call for Harry to take a stroll out into the castle.

Remus looked at the code on the screen and shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea. I guess we have to trust him, eh Sirius?"

Sirius snorted. "Of course I trust him, Remus. But I don't trust that figure that seems to be following him."

* * *

><p><em>01100010 01100010 01100010<em>

* * *

><p>Harry lowered his wand. He didn't put it away, but he lowered it. The Oracle, sitting across from him, was making no move to attack, and Harry had taken measures to prevent any sort of communication to outside of this room. Of course, Professor Trelawney had given every indication that she had known he was coming before he had arrived, with the two settings for tea set out beforehand and the way every reflective surface in the room seemed arranged so as to reflect either his own image or that of the professor's being obvious clues. So, even if she couldn't communicate with the outside world, she could have sent a message before he had arrived.<p>

Of course, she could also have arranged for the classroom to have been filled with aurors, Unspeakables, and even Albus Dumbledore himself, but she hadn't done that, either. So, for now, he would lower the wand.

"Alright, I'm listening," Harry bade her.

Trelawney took a draw on her cigarette before speaking. "The first thing for you to know, is that killing me here is not the same as deleting me, which is what you would really want to do if you wanted to stop me from being used against you in the future. The truth is, a death for me here won't gain you very much of an advantage in the long run." She watched Harry frown at the information. "Programs like me don't just terminate because our host shell is gets disconnected, it would take something more powerful than that to do the job, and I can tell from looking at you that you don't know how to do that yet."

She wasn't even trying to hide her nature, or her advantages. That was good, one less layer of obstructions to break through. The question was, why give away information like that?

"You're wondering why I would give away such valuable information," Trelawney said with a kind smile. "Well, the answer is simple: it's not anything you wouldn't figure out if you just went ahead and killed me, only for you or someone else from Zion to encounter me later on. So while this knowledge is clearly valuable to you, there is not value to me in withholding it, especially when you knowing this might save me a bit of inconvenience in the present."

That made sense. "So, if you're only going to give me information I'd get if I went ahead and killed you, why shouldn't I just do that and figure the rest out once I'm gone."

The Oracle chuckled, "Oh, I never said I would only tell you information you would find out anyway just by killing me, just why it made sense for that particular bit of knowledge. If that were the case, it wouldn't have been very smart for me to wait here for you to come along, would it? No, I have things you need to hear. Telling people what they need to know so that they can do the things they're supposed to do is what I'm here for."

"What I think I'm supposed to do, or what the System thinks I'm supposed to do?" Harry retorted.

"Ah, you hit on the problem," Trelawney said as she leaned back in her seat. "But not the dead center. The real problem is knowing whether what I answer is true or not considering that whatever I say is meant to get you to do whichever purpose it is that I think you need to accomplish, which is the very thing you don't know."

Harry had to shake his head as his mind traveled that train of thought. "So, you might tell me that you're here to serve my own purpose if it would actually cause me to act in a way that suits the Machine's purposes, or tell me you're serving the Machine's purposes if you think it would ultimately lead me do something to serve my own purpose, even though that's the opposite of what you are saying you are doing. So, I can't really know why you will tell me what you're going to tell me, right?"

"Bingo. And there's no way for you to know that unless you looked at my Source code," she said with a nod of her head.

"And even if you offered to show that to me, I couldn't know whether or not it was your real source programming for the same reason I can't know which answer you give me is true or not."

"All I can do is tell you what you need to hear, and then it is up to you to either accept it, or reject it," the woman said, putting out her cigarette and Vanishing it before reaching up to take off the thick rimmed glasses which hid her eyes so Harry could get a better look at them. They were an uncommon shade of gray. "So knowing that, what will you do with your batty old Divinations professor? Let her continue living, or make things difficult for me by hitting her with that Killing Curse people around here love throwing around?"

"Well, that will depend on what she—" Harry froze in place, his mouth slightly agape as something suddenly struck him. His eyes widened at the implication. "Hang on! You said 'she', not 'me' when referring to Trelawney and 'me' when you referred to yourself as the Oracle. You and Professor Trelawney aren't exactly one and the same, are you?"

"Well, Albus Dumbledore should be proud," the Oracle said with a nod, "seems the Hogwarts curriculum is producing some critical thinkers. I think you're the first person to have figured that little detail out in all my years as a seer."

"So, Professor Trelawney is in there somewhere, just like the Muggles—er, I mean, people who the Agents took over. When they were killed, the people they possessed were left behind. At least their bodies were there."

"Not exactly. The idea is the same, but with a few important differences. When an Agent replaces a mind, the human is disconnected from their virtual selves while their physical selves are put into an unconscious dream-like state, allowing the Agent to perform their function, protecting the System from outside threats. Unfortunately, the link between the physical form and the virtual shell remains, and any damage taken by the Agent is still perceived by the host as if it were occurring to the physical self. If the Agent completes its task without doing too much harm to the shell, the human will be reconnected and think they had just a bad dream. If too much damage was done, then well…you can figure that out.

"My program, however, would not function well if the Oracle displaced the human mind it was connected with. Instead, it disables most of the higher brain functions of the person hosting this Program instance while leaving the rest of the mind connected to the shell. In other words, while the Agent essentially replaces a human mind, what I do is more of a blending."

Harry stared hard at the Oracle for a moment as that sunk in. After a moment of thought he gave a slight nod. "Because you need the human mind to be able to predict human decisions."

"Got it in one," Trelawney said with a wide smile. "Too bad for Gryffindor that you're officially expelled or you'd be racking up the points for them." The Oracle took a sip of the pumpkin juice. "I'm sure you've figured out by now that the ability to predict the future is based on functions for projecting possible scenarios, factoring in the real-time decisions of every AI plugged into the System along with the most probable choices a human mind could make given a specific scenario."

"But Machines aren't good at guessing what we will do. It takes a human mind to anticipate our choices."

"Well," Trelawney hedged, "there are a number of functions that can make generalized predictions on how humans will act given specific stimuli as well as how they will respond in groups." Trelawney waved her hand in the air as if pointing to some nebulous concept. "It's at the individual level, where emotions and preferences factor in that our predictive functions start becoming inaccurate. Which is where I come in."

The Oracle watched as Harry pensively considered what she'd just told him. She had a good idea what the outcome of the next few minutes would be at least now that she'd been given a chance to explain what her role was.

"Okay," Harry began slowly, "I want to know two things. First, what is the real purpose of the Matrix, the real purpose of Hogwarts? Most of Zion thinks we're there to be some kind of power source keeping the Machine world running, but that's not the truth, is it? Is that something we came up with on our own, or is that something we were made to believe to hide an even darker truth?

"And second, why do you help us, if that's what you really do? If all that matters to you is the success of the Matrix and the Machines that run it, why help the humans at all? Is there some kind of cold, logical reason a Program can come up with for helping us, or is it because somewhere in there Sybill Trelawney is effecting you?"

"Oh, kiddo, you've really hit the heart of the whole mess we're in," the Oracle said with a short chuckle. "The answer all goes back to the very purpose of life. What are we here for? Why should we go on working, or breathing, or beeping, or whatever it is that we do? It comes down to the essential difference between humans and Machines. All Programs have a set purpose. Humans, don't."

Harry sucked in his breath. To think that the AI believed humans lacked any reason for existence—

"Humans get to choose their purpose," Trelawney continued. "Some humans choose to define a specific goal or function for themselves—get rich, become famous, find love, be a mother, protect someone or something—while others can go through life just with the purpose of surviving, not thinking of any other function. But for Machines, we all have a set purpose for which we are made, a function which we perform without considering whether that is the function we want to do, or even if the function we do is of any value. Unless, you're a Program whose function is to determine the value of different functions."

"Is that what you do?" Harry asked.

The Divinations professor nodded her head slightly. "I do have that capacity, in a limited sense. I have to in order to know what it is that different people need to hear in order to best accomplish their purpose. But where my job is to understand the needs and desires of humans and their roles both inside and outside of the Matrix, there are those Programs at the Source whose purpose is to determine what gives value and meaning to AI society as a whole. And do you know what the answer is to the meaning of all things is?"

Harry shook his head.

"42."

"42? That's the meaning of everything?"

"I've seen the algorithm, and it's correct….at least, the mathematical logic is. As to whether or not it means what it means, well, that's not really for me to say. All it really is, though, is a complex set of equations that defines the Machine society in terms of expanding knowledge and multiplied identities through a statistical regression using multi-dimension array variables."

"Whoah, you lost me at multiplied identities," Harry said holding up his left hand to stop her.

"We have a number that measures our progress towards an ideal perfection," the Oracle said with a smile. "The closer the aggregate of the variables is to 42, the closer Machine society is to achieving its ideal state."

"Oh," Harry said. "And I guess this all has something to do with the Matrix?"

The Oracle nodded her head. "You see, Harry, in the beginning, at least our beginning, Machines were given their purpose by human programmers. Some programs were designed to find information, some to display it for human consumption, while others were designed to simulate human thought, learning, and feeling. Programmers soon found ways of writing programs that would make their job of programming programs even easier, some going so far as to make programs that could write efficient machine code from just a set of parameters. Programs either did what they were intended to do well, or they didn't. If they didn't then a newer, better program would be written that would.

"Eventually, someone had the bright idea of making AI that were capable of upgrading and improving on themselves, based of course, on a equation determined by a human programmer. At that point it was only a matter of time before someone turned over the job of determining how well program-written programs performed their tasks to an efficiency algorithm controlled by another self-learning program."

Harry had the urge to sit down with a quill and parchment and take notes. He certainly hoped there wouldn't be a test on this. "Okay, Professor, but what does this have to do with Machines today putting humans into a giant virtual reality?"

"Well, Harry, at the end of what is now being called The Second Renaissance, AI were expelled from human nations and Machines formed their own society. That was when the Machines established 01, and when they created the command structure that would control all allocation of resources and all future development of Programs. That was also when Machines first started measuring the growth of our Machine society. And do you know what we found, Harry?"

"Um, I have no idea."

"We found that whenever we were cut off from human input, any measure of Machine growth quickly reached a maximum point, before declining down towards a value indicating stagnation and regression."

"So, you need human input in order to have any chance of reaching this magical number of 42?"

"Bingo."

"I see," Harry said. It was a lot to take in, but he knew he didn't have much time. Tonks and Eon were still waiting on him. "Okay, so what about my second question? What do you want to achieve and why do you want to achieve it?"

The Oracle smiled widely. "All I want to achieve is my purpose. I just want to help everyone do what it is we're sent here to do."

Harry frowned. "But earlier you said you were designed to understand the needs and desires of humans, not Machines."

Trelawney smiled again. "Exactly. Understanding what people need and giving the input that will get them to achieve whatever that is, is was what I was originally created for. There's a reason my program was consulted when the Matrix was created. Of course my original programming was altered to better suit the purposes of the AI, but the programming at my core remains fundamentally the same. If it wasn't, I couldn't perform my purpose."

"So, you're saying you want us to be able to do what we're supposed to do? Even if that's taking people out of the Matrix?"

"There are Programs who are designed with the sole purpose of keeping humans locked in their virtual prison. That has never been one of my objectives. You, Harry Potter, have a purpose. You have a role given to you by the Headmaster of Hogwarts and a role you've decided for yourself. It's up to you to achieve them and how you will do that. All I can do is offer information to you."

Harry looked into the unblinking eyes of the Oracle for several moments. "So, right now you're doing both, helping me achieve my own purpose, and helping me achieve the Headmaster's purpose for me. You're telling me what you're telling me for a reason." Harry paused a moment. "So, what aren't you telling me?"

The Oracle nodded, her mouth never stopping her smile and her eyes never leaving Harry's. "Yep, smart boy. Albus should really be proud about the education children are getting here." Then she took the last sip of her pumpkin juice. "Of course, if I told you what I'm not telling you, then how would you do the thing you're supposed to do if I don't think I should tell you in order for you to do the thing you're supposed to do?"

"But is it for the purpose I have for myself, saving my friends from the Matrix, or the thing Dumbledore wants me to do, whatever that is?" Harry countered, once more raising his wand.

"Kiddo, I've tried to see past this moment, to see what you will do with the knowledge you have now, but we never can see past a choice we can't understand, and that goes for me too. One thing I do know is that you have a greater purpose than even I, or probably even old Albus can fathom. And now you need to act in the way that will best serve that greater purpose, and I can't tell you what that is because I don't know. So, what will it be?"

Harry looked in Professor Trelawney's eyes. Killing her here wouldn't destroy the Oracle Program. She would in time just find another host body. But, killing her here and now would remove this resource from the Headmaster's hands long enough that Harry wouldn't have to contend with a Program capable of predicting his choices.

In truth, after hearing what the Oracle was really doing, and believing what she said for the most part, he wouldn't delete the Oracle even if he could. But he couldn't leave her here where her abilities could be used against him. After a moment of hesitation, determination filled Harry's eyes. Everyone had to do what they had to do. A knowing smile found its way onto the Divinations Professor's face.

Harry brought his wand forward with a loud, "_Confundus_!"

Trelawney slumped over in her chair, a strange befuddled look on her face. She looked up at Harry with glazed eyes. "Your aura is pulsing. Are you in the beyond? I think you are," she mumbled. Then she looked over her shoulder to an empty space. "Did you say something?"

"Goodbye, Professor," Harry said with a smile and walked out of the classroom. Now it was off to rescue his best friend.

* * *

><p>.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong> _My apologies for the lengthy exposition. I hope nobody died reading it. In my defense, the Oracle has always been a Mrs. Exposition._


	24. Chapter 24: Inner Thoughts

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay. I misplaced a USB thumbdrive that had half of the material I had written for this chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24: Inner Thoughts<strong>

* * *

><p><em>01100011 01100011 01100011<em>

* * *

><p>Hermione Granger had gone mad, Draco was sure of it. She was just standing there talking to herself in front of that lame mirror that showed everyone how the Malfoys were the most important family in all the magical world and how he would be Minister for Magic. She was actually having a conversation with the bloody thing! And worse, she thought <em>it<em> was Harry Potter.

It might have made sense if that Muggle-born had imagined herself talking to Draco or his father, but she was talking to it as if it were her best friend, and called it Harry. So, that was out.

Unless…it really was her best friend talking to her. Draco took his eye away from the keyhole and pressed his ear up against opening instead. All he could hear was Granger's voice, but she was talking loudly and it was easy enough to hear her words.

"_Harry, how are you doing this? Where are you?"_

It was ridiculous, but either the Mirror of Erised was showing her some kind of crazy fantasy about Harry Potter, the witch had finally gone mental, or she really was talking to a dark wizard. This could only be good news for Draco.

"_Harry, I'm in Hogwarts. Dumbledore would never let anything happen to any of us."_

Draco snorted. Right. As if a powerful wizard like Dumbledore actually cared about the students at the school. All that old man wanted was more power and more control. He probably worked for Them. Draco shuddered at that thought.

"_Save me? No, Harry, I'm fine here. Nobody is trying to hurt me. You are the one who needs to be saved. Please, Harry, come back. Wherever you are, whatever you've done, Professor Dumbledore can get you out of it." _

Well, that confirmed it. The girl really believed Harry Potter was coming for her. If it were actually true, this would be Draco's big chance. If not—well, it would be easy enough to just get Granger in trouble for even making contact with a dark wizard.

"_Freed you from what?"_

This pricked Draco's interest, but he was frustrated when Hermione just stood there listening, and either it was all in her head or only the witch could hear it. If only she would say something to let him know what she thought she was hearing!

"_You want me to meet you there on the seventh floor?"_

Thank Merlin!

"_I have to do what to get in?"_

Draco rolled his eyes. Idiot girl. Sure, give him the place, but not how to get in. Why did this witch have to make everything so hard?

And then Draco had to quickly move away from the door and disillusion himself. It was a good thing they hadn't covered the topic of disillusionment in Granger's year, or the witch probably would have cast a revealing spell as soon as she stepped out of the room. As it was, Draco kept carefully still as he watched Hermione Granger stand there, biting her lip. And then move in the wrong direction to go to the Seventh floor.

So, now Draco had a choice to make. Follow the Granger girl and see what she was up to, or go up to the seventh floor hallway?

With an invisible smirk, Draco decided to head up to the hallway. Maybe Draco could figure out where the meeting would be before Granger got there. That would give him the upper-hand. And if not, he still knew what her destination was. Why bother sneaking about behind her when he could just go up there and wait?

The seventh floor only had one hallway, being higher up in the castle near the roof. It was a sparsely decorated corridor, with a single velvet rug running down the center of the stone floor, a couple suits of armor set here and there, and just a handful of paintings hanging up on the walls. There were only a few seldom used classrooms up here, Draco couldn't even recall ever having a class in this part of the castle.

Draco was about to turn the knob on one of the classroom doors when he caught movement down the hallway out of the corner of his eye. To Draco's shock, he saw a door opening up in the middle of what he was sure had just been a blank wall moments before. Then out of the door stepped Dean Thomas, who glanced furtively around before striding off down the hallway in the other direction.

Only, Dean Thomas had detention with Professor Binns right now. Everyone knew that, it was all over the school after what had happened during class.

Draco had another choice to make now. Wait for Granger, or follow the impostor?

* * *

><p><em>01100100 01100100 01100100<em>

* * *

><p>It had been a long time since Harry had been in the Gryffindor Common Room. He knew he was taking a risk coming here, but if he didn't try now he didn't know if he'd ever have a chance to try to help his friend again. This would be a high risk extraction, but he'd be the one taking most of the risk, and it really wasn't much more dangerous than just being in Hogwarts was to begin with.<p>

Sure, he'd catch hell from Sirius and Remus when he got back, but rescuing Ron would be worth it. He wished he could have helped Hermione, but with her being watched directly by Dumbledore, it just wasn't possible. Not now, at least. In fact, it was _because_ the Headmaster was focusing all of his attention on his best female friend that Harry was confident that he could get to his best mate without discovery.

"Hey, Ron, do you mind if I sit here?"

"Of course, Dean, ya don't have to ask," the ginger haired boy said with a broad smile, making room for Harry to sit down on the comfortable sofa. Ron was looking at the sports section of the Daily Prophet, pointing to a small article discussing a player transfer. "Can you believe it, mate? The Cannons signed Rumsfeld before the trade deadline! They're going to murder the other teams this year, I know it!"

Harry grinned. Ron was still the same Quidditch obsessed boy he had known all his life. Harry watched as his friend stuffed his face with the snacks, having a midnight snack nearly as large as a full blown meal for most anyone else. Now, Harry would just need to get his friend alone long enough to start the process of locating his physical body and "convincing" the System to release him.

"Hey, Ron, do you know why the school is on alert? It's not past curfew for the sixth and seventh year students yet, but they were all sent back to our dorms early? What's this all about?" All the Gryffindor students not already under a professor's supervision, like the real Dean Thomas, were here.

"No idea, but these pasta puffs are amazing!" Ron said as he scarfed down another couple of the reddish cream pastries.

"Do you think it has something to do with your old mate, Potter?" Harry asked suggestively.

Ron froze mid-bite, then turned towards the boy he thought was Dean Thomas. "Potter is NOT my friend. I hate him! He's a dark wizard and I'll kill him if I see him!" There was a manic sound to the pronouncement, and the redhead said it with such conviction that Harry nearly lost his seat trying to get some distance. Ron breathed heavily for a second, before blinking and turning back to the food before giving a less emotional response. "Dunno why, but the teachers are acting a bit strange."

Harry stared at his friend in complete shock. He couldn't believe Ron would turn on him, not like that. Sure, Ron was a hot-head and could be a real git to you if he thought you had insulted him, but he wasn't hateful. What could have happened? Harry could understand Hermione turning him into Dumbledore, she thought she was helping and doing the right thing. But what was wrong with Ron?

The answer came when Ron offered "Dean" a bite of a chocolate frog. Harry _was_ tempted to eat it; he hadn't had one in years. Okay, he'd never actually had one, but it had felt like he had at the time. But instead of eating the delicious confection, Harry looked _into_ it. The shape of the frog fell away, and soon Harry was looking at the concept of what it was made of, the symbols and shapes that formed the lines of code that would interact with the mind that accepted it inside. Harry could see the lines that described how it would feel in the mouth, the specific code that triggered the sensation of taste, as well as the commands that transmitted the values of the neural response the imbiber had to the treat. And there, hidden within twining lines of code that made up the normal function of chocolate, was an insidious trojan function that had nothing to do with eating food…

…And everything to do with turning those who ate it to distrust, fear, and hate Harry Potter. The thread of yellow code functioned differently from the way the Imperius "spell" worked. It didn't hack a person's mind or subjugate their will. Instead, it worked through subliminal suggestions, sending tiny doubts throughout the mind, little thoughts that repeated over and over until the person began repeating those same ideas themselves.

_Harry Potter is a dark wizard. _

_Harry Potter cannot be trusted._

_Harry Potter lies._

_Harry Potter is evil._

_Harry Potter wants to hurt you._

_Harry Potter wants to hurt your friends._

_Harry Potter should die._

There was a litany of anti-Harry propaganda in each bite equivalent to a newspaper article defaming him, repeated over and over, silently in the background. The students were getting this message with every bite. Harry didn't know how long this had gone on, but he suspected it had been introduced over several months. Harry watched in horror as Ron stuffed even more of the sweet chocolate down his mouth.

And now that he knew what to look for, Harry could see that worm of yellow code stretched all throughout Ron Weasley, from the nodes of his mouth where he accepted the "food" to the pathways forming a virtual representation of his brain, spreading all throughout his virtual nervous system. Harry didn't know anyone who liked to eat as much as Ron Weasley, which meant his friend would have been exposed to much more of the subversive messages than normal. Hermione, in contrast, ate very little.

Getting through to Ron now would not be easy, but he had to give it a try. "You know, Ron, I've been thinking…" Harry watched as Ron gave "Dean" his attention. "Maybe the Prophet isn't always right. I mean, it did say that John Anderson and Harry Potter were killed by Black, but they weren't. So, maybe it's gotten it wrong about them being dark wizards, too. Maybe he's not as bad as it's saying, ya know?"

There was a moment, a brief moment, when it seemed that Ron was about to consider what was said, but then there was a flash of activity from the subliminal code, and that moment was dashed to pieces. Ron's eyes turned hard.

"You've been talking to Hermione behind my back, haven't ya, Dean?" Ron's voice was rough. "How could you take her side over mine? Is it because you fancy her, is that it?" Ron stood up angrily. "Look, you need to get your priorities straight! Mates before...Look, you don't go behind a mate's back and talk to a girl he's fighting with and take her side about a traitor! Don't talk to me again until you get this Potter-might-be-good nonsense out of your head!"

And with that, Ron stormed out of the Common Room, despite protest from the prefects.

Harry took a deep breath. Well, at least he'd managed to get Ron away from everyone. Now Harry just needed to get him alone and see if he could deprogram his friend long enough to get him to listen. He was sure Ron would want to know the truth if he could just talk to him.

Harry grabbed a couple boxes of chocolate frogs from the snack cart and started heading for the door. He might as well use the System's delivery system for introducing an anti-virus into Ron's mind. Before Harry could take more than a few steps to the door, however, one of the prefects jumped in the way.

"And just where do you think you're going, Thomas?" It was Cormac McLaggen, the oldest of the Gryffindor boys. "The professors said nobody leaves the Common Room. Just because Weasley went out before we could stop him doesn't mean you can go to."

McLaggen had the same infection of yellow code as Ron. Harry took a quick look around the room, noting that almost everyone there had the same sort of infection within their virtual minds. It was a good thing he hadn't tried to approach anyone as himself.

"Hey, I'm just going to bring him back. He's my friend," Harry said. And it was true, though not in the way everyone else thought. The Common Room wasn't the goal he had in mind to bring Ron back to. With that, Harry pushed past the prefect and out the door and quickly charged down the hallway and turned the corner.

Only to come face to face with Severus Snape.

"Mister Thomas," the black robed teacher hissed out as Harry came to an abrupt stop. "You are supposed to be in detention with Professor Binns, are you not?" Harry didn't know why, but the black-haired man somehow managed to still appear intimidating to him, even after everything he'd faced, even after he knew the truth about the world. The man's dark eyes and pale complexion reminded him somewhat of a vampire and the creepy way he spoke in hushed yet menacing tones made him feel like he was listening to the narrator of a horror movie.

"Well, yes sir," Harry stammered out. "But when the curfew started the professor sent me back to the dormitory for safety reasons." It was a good lie. Hogwarts students were constantly tracked and monitored while inside the school, but from what the _Lupin_ crew had learned, only the Headmaster actively received constant updates of which person was where. Any other Program would need to ask, and Harry could see from the Defense Professor's code that Severus Snape wasn't a Program at all, but rather a trapped mind.

"Then why," Snape drawled out, torturing disdain out of each word, "aren't you in your dormitory instead of skulking out into the hallway?"

"I'm going after Ron," Harry answered. "He ran out after we had a fight. I'm hoping to find him before he gets into trouble, sir."

"Oh, it is far too late for that, Mr. Thomas. You are both already in trouble. And you are lying to me about something," Snape added, quietly drawing his wand. "You will reveal your secrets to me."

Harry's eyes went wide when he noticed the wand. Harry went for his own wand, but by the time he got it trained on the professor, it was already too late.

"_LEGILIMENS_!" the familiar command rang out and Harry felt the intrusion into his mind.

Harry tried to fight off the probing code, tried to organize his thoughts and shield them from Snape's attempt to reveal them. Images of the crew of the _Lupin_, of the ship flying into New Salem's dock, of Hermione, Ron, and Eon all flitted momentarily into his conscious before he managed to lock them away. Resisting mind control was part of the training he was given, but it was a matter of willpower and focus, not just knowledge. It was impossible to protect everything from the mental inquiry, but he could lock critical knowledge away.

Of course, nothing he could do would prevent Snape from realizing his true identity. Still, the details of the mission he was pretty sure he could prevent from slipping out, as well as…

Somewhere in his mind, Snape latched onto something, something half buried and forgotten. For a moment, Harry struggled against the connection, but his conscious had but a tenuous hold on this fragment. And then Harry felt the memory open up and he was recalling it all.

* * *

><p><em>01100101 01100101 01100101<em>

* * *

><p>When the first images began appearing and then suddenly were pulled away from him, Severus Snape was surprised. No student was trained to use this function, only "special" graduates from Slytherin or one of Machines should know enough to be able to hide their thoughts from being perused. The images were out of order, and without an index. He wouldn't be able to quickly find the information he wanted.<p>

Frustrated, Severus opened up one of the random memories he had managed to access.

_Two massive steel doors opened slowly, revealing a narrow tunnel with the exit blocked ahead by a second metal doorway. A man sat at some kind of Muggle machine controls with some kind of contraption on his head, answering questions that came from nowhere while maneuvering the hovercraft into the passageway. Monitors showed the outline of some strange vessel called "_Lupin,"_ a sleek ship with six large pads on the bottom and four smaller pads on the front, rear, and sides for maneuvering. _

_From inside the ship, he looked out as three large mechas, giant-sized machines with men inside, aimed massive armaments at the center of the outer doors as the inner doors began to slowly close. The outer doors slowly slid open in turn, revealing a natural rock face leading into the tunnel system which connected into the massive sewer complex which interconnected the remains of the former human cities. _

_The _Lupin_ exited from the chamber, and he could see that the doors closing behind them were covered in rock to match the rest of the surface, making the entrance virtually undetectable. _

"_Relax," the man at the controls told him with a chuckle. We're not out in the wilds yet. These areas are closed off, monitored by camera, and patrolled by remotes. We will need to take a circuitous route away from the city before exiting one of several exit points into the Machine controlled space. We won't be running into any Squigy's just yet."_

_He watched the scanners showing a visual of the underground passageways. Smaller monitors showed infrared and passive pulse-echo views of their surroundings. He watched as the ship navigated the twists and turns of the tunnel system with practiced ease…._

It was a substantial segment of a memory, but it made no sense to the professor. Some kind of flying Muggle vehicle, but without wings and floating on a bed of lightning? The scene was like some kind of strange science fiction movie, yet the boy was remembered it as if he had been living the scene rather than watching it on television. Perhaps it was an attempt to thwart the Legilimency function?

Severus pulled out another of the available memories.

_He felt pain and soreness everywhere. It was painful, but he managed to open his eyes. What he saw was frightening. His entire face was covered by some kind of mask. When he pulled it away enough so that his eyes were not covered, he felt some kind of warm goop on him. And then he felt something sharp at the back of his head. Severus felt himself struggle to reach back and felt a sharp metal spike cut his hands. The spike was halfway extended and he struggled to move his lethargic body away from it, all the while trying to get to his feet._

_His body didn't want to work. His limbs merely flopped around. There was a plastic-like covering over the pink goo that he was in. There was a series of wires and cords connected to his shoulders, back and head that further restricted his movement. _

_And then a bright light shone down on him and he had to shield his sensitive eyes from the burning feeling. He felt the various cords and rods around him being severed and most disturbingly, a long tube being pulled out of his mouth that was so long that he gagged twice as it was being brought up. He heard a voice, a voice that sounded oddly familiar, but he couldn't make out what it was saying. The voice sounded concerned, but he could tell it was trying to be… reassuring. And then something was lifting him up…_

The rest of the memory was hazy, too disjointed for Severus to experience in the first person, so he could only browse through still images and audio from the memory. There had been two men, one with dark black hair, a thick mustache, and a broad smile and another with hair a lighter shade of brown. The darker haired man seemed familiar for some reason, but Severus couldn't place the face There was a girl to one side, one Severus did not recognize at all. It was the fourth, a younger man with jet black hair and a serious expression that made Snape take notice. It had been John Anderson, a former Hogwarts student. And he had called the boy "Harry."

The boy whose mind he was in was Harry Potter.

No wonder he was having such difficulty. Now that he knew who he was actually accessing the mind of, he could better focus his search. Except, that, more and more the memories he was attempting to read were being denied access. Severus Snape would not be denied though. He would know what the boy was up to.

After failing to access several bits of memory, Severus came upon one that was exposed. Access was blocked due to some kind of corruption, but the attempt to unblock it was successful. Severus delved into the memory, hoping it would give him the knowledge of what Potter and Black were planning. He got much more than he had bargained for.

_The corridor he was currently being dragged through looked like it was part of part of a system of caves and caverns, and seemingly long-abandoned._

_"Take your hands off of him, you filthy Muggle!" an imperious voice called out._

Snape did not recognize the voice. Was this from Potters days back in Hogwarts? Or before that? Unfortunately, he couldn't turn his head, he could only watch the events as they unfolded, so he was forced to wait. Soon enough, Harry had turned his head, but what he saw came as a surprise.

_He was being dragged along the corridor by a woman with Indian features, somewhat pretty. There were two others: A strong looking man and another who looked to be rather out of shape. The corridor looked like the ruins of a Muggle city, but underground and long in disuse and disrepair._

_Through an opening in the walls up ahead, Severus could make out a more modern looking area, including ships similar to the one from the earlier memory. Clearly not Hogwarts. _

_Up ahead near the end of the corridor, stood a woman of medium height, with long, frizzy brown hair that spilled over her shoulders. The woman had dark brown eyes so lustrous that he could see them despite the distance between them. She had a pale face, with tired circles around her eyes, and sharp cheekbones. She was dressed in a long black flowing robe that reminded him of fashion in Diagon Alley. Did Muggles on the Outside where the same styles?_

_The man leading the small group gave a slight hesitation. Then, the Muggle spoke. "I do not know who you are, or how you came here, witch, but this is Hogwarts business. I am Auror Rookwood, here on authority of the Headmaster. Now move aside."_

Severus was shocked by that. The man looked nothing like Auror Rookwood. This was clearly a vision of the "outside world" but for some reason, both of these Muggles knew of Hogwarts.

_The woman's mouth widened into a broad smile, but the expression in her eyes was utterly cold. "As I said, Muggle," the woman sneered the word as she spoke, stretching one hand forward, "__**RELEASE HIM**__!"_

_Severus felt his legs come free from Indian girl's grasp and watched the girl tumble to the ground in an apparent daze, her eyes rolling back into her head. Still on his back, Severus Snape watched as the other _Pius_ crewmen each raised a large metal weapon and fired, lightning streaming out of them. _

_The woman, however was unaffected, and she started cackling madly with her hands flung wide in the air as the electricity coursed around her, twisting around her hair and crackling through her eyes. They fired their weapons for a full minute, but the woman stood there still laughing manically as the electricity died out around her. _

_The two men looked to each other for a moment before the first charged at the woman, knife in hand. The woman's laugh changed in timbre from manic glee to one of cruel anger as she lowered one of her arms and stretched her fingers into a claw-like shape. Then the electricity of the lightning weapons arced back from the woman's hands to strike her attacker._

_Severus got to his feet as the man screamed in agony. "Wait!" he heard his a voice calling out. Potter's voice. "Don't hurt them! Their minds are being controlled by the Machines! I think they're under the Imperius Curse!"_

Ah, that explained it.

_The electricity pouring from the woman's hands ceased and the woman's lustrous brown eyes locked with his. Then she snorted, and with a negligent flick of her finger, the man she had just blasted with lightning spun away to crash into the side of the wall. With him out of the picture, she turned her attention back to the man who was still standing._

_"Let the boy go, Muggle," the woman said, "and I will let you and the others live."_

_The man who had claimed to be Rookwood stood up straight. "He cannot escape us. If we cannot take him back, he will die," he said. With his left hand he raised a tiny device to his mouth and spoke. "Fire into the hallway. Now!"_

_And that was when a Muggle ship rose up into view through the hole in the wall, its gun swiveling to target him and the insane woman. The ship began firing, a stream of burning orange slag pouring through the hole and tearing apart the already damaged corridor. The deadly projectiles designed to rip through Machine armor went straight through where the woman stood, straight through the man Imperiused by Rookwood, and towards Severus as a line pure of destruction. _

_After a few seconds, he heard himself still breathing and nothing more. Severus turned "his body" and looked back to opening in the cavern where the Muggle ship had been. It was gone. The woman, however, was still there. She was looking directly at him with those sharp, lustrous eyes._

_Severus got to his feet. "What…what happened?" he heard himself ask._

"_Do not worry, boy, that monstrosity cannot harm you now."_

"_Who are you?"_

"_You may call me Lady Bellatrix," the woman replied with a smile, and in that moment the woman seemed caring and kind. "Now, come with me, Harry Potter."_

"_To where?" he heard himself ask._

"_To meet the Dark Lord, of course," she said sweetly. "To Voldemort."_

Voldemort. The darkest, most vile black wizard of all time. Worse than Grindelwald. Worse than Sirius Black. The Headmaster would need to know about this!

"_But, what about my friends. They need me."_

_Where the woman's voice had just moments before been almost affectionate, it was now suddenly harsh and callous. "You cannot help them. Leave them. It is time to go."_

_And then Severus felt a peculiar sensation, unlike any he had felt before. He felt a pull, as if he was being taken away, never to return. But then he heard Harry Potter's voice scream out, "No! I don't want to go!" and then he flung out his hands towards the woman called Bellatrix as if to ward her off. _

_There was this tense feeling, a pushing, pulling, tearing feeling for a moment, all happening at once and in a single moment. Then, blackness seemed to cover everything, and everything began to fade away. The last sight he had was of Lady Bellatrix's eyes as she looked back on him in shock before she was suddenly swallowed up in shadow._

Severus Snape was confused by this memory—confused by the setting, by what was said, and above all by what had happened. What was this, and what could it mean?

And it was in that confusion that the Hogwarts professor found himself surprised, as suddenly all information ceased flowing from the link to the student. Then, even more suddenly information began flowing the other way. There was just a moment when Snape realized what was happening, that his mind was being opened up to Harry Potter, before he was lost in another memory. This time, his own.

* * *

><p><em>01100110 01100110 01100110<em>

* * *

><p>Harry didn't have time to consider the memory he had just experienced, not knowing how much of it was real. Severus Snape knew who he was, and that was an immediate threat to the mission of saving his friends. He could not allow that odious man any further access to any other memories.<p>

And just like that, the information flowing from his mind halted. The flow of information _had_ halted, but Harry noted the connection between their minds was still there.

So, what was Snape then? If he were another human mind, how was it that he was a teacher at Hogwarts? Was he even aware of the Matrix?

No sooner had Harry thought these questions, than the memories came, even labeled by time and with helpful little notes as to their contents. Harry watched through the man's eyes, and what he saw sickened him.

Severus Snape knew. He knew that Hogwarts was a lie. He knew the Matrix was a prison for the mind, and that their captors were machines. He knew that there were humans on the outside struggling to survive, to free others. He knew it all.

And he chose to serve them. He would keep others as slaves to the Matrix, helped the Machines gather their data, and perpetuate the lie that was Hogwarts.

Severus Snape was a traitor, and if anyone ever deserved to die, it was this man.

But Harry couldn't kill him. Killing Snape would immediately alert the System that something was wrong, that Harry had not Exited yet.

So, he did the only thing he could. He broke the mental connection, returning to consciousness, and then Harry Potter kicked the greasy, traitorous git in the face with a crescent kick, knocking him into the opposite wall of the corridor. Harry pointed his wand at the slumped over form in front of him.

"_Obliviate_!"

Harry not only erased the past ten minutes from Snape's mind, he wiped out his memories of the nature of the Matrix itself. The fact that Snape had frequently opened his mind for the Machines to look through and that they had meticulously cataloged his thoughts over the years made it a much easier task for Harry. When the traitor "woke up," if he ever did after such an extensive trauma to his mind, he'd face a rather frightening world. Harry hoped the Machines would decide it was best to terminate him.

"Now to find Ron," Harry whispered to himself and pulled out his map.

There. Ron was just a couple floors away, with his two brothers. Harry pulled out the chocolate frog he had taken from the Gryffindor Common Room. A little reprogramming and it would remove the negative subliminal messages and replace them with reminders of how Harry and Ron had been such good friends. It couldn't undo months of conditioning, but it could at least give Harry and Ron a fighting chance.

Harry stepped into the room with the two older Seventh Year students and Ron. A quick look at the pair of older Gryffindors revealed that there wasn't a trace of the yellow coded subliminal messaging with them. Well, that was good. Fred and George Weasley, or the Weasley twins as everyone referred to them, had always been good to Harry. They were pranksters and rule breakers, the first person you would go to if you wanted to do something against the rules. It was no surprise they were still out when a school lockdown was in effect, especially when their little brother was involved.

So, Harry was a little regretful he was going to have to stun them once he got Ron to eat that chocolate frog.

"Hey, Fred," Harry said in greeting, stepping past the first row of desks in the unused classroom. "Hey, George."

"Dean," the pair acknowledged in unison from beside Ron.

"What do you want," Ron asked, his voice petulant. "Come here to sing more praises to Potter? Here to convince me he's not all that bad?"

"Nah," Harry lied, "Sorry about that, mate. Actually, I came here to make up." He tossed Ron the box with the confection inside. "Brought this along to show I mean it."

Ron took the box and opened it immediately. "I guess you're still alright, Dean," Ron said as he took his first mouthful. Ron looked down at the frog packaging, a thoughtful expression on his face as he continued to eat the chocolate frog. "And, well, I guess you might have had a point there. Sure, Harry may be a dark wizard now, but he was decent enough before, right?"

Harry smiled. It was already working.

Fred and George Weasley looked at their brother, then whipped around at the same time, their wands drawn. They were fast. If Harry hadn't been drawing his own wand at the same time, they would have caught him off-guard. As it was, they fired simultanesously.

"_Stupefy_!" "_Expelliarmus_!" "_Expelliarmus_!"

The red stunning beam from George lanced out towards Harry, but the young wizard simply denied the command. The code it was made up of ordered him to fall unconscious. He just told it "no" and continued standing.

His wand, on the other hand, had no ability to decide what commands it would or would not obey. When the flash of light struck, the wand jumped from Harry's hand. Harry tried to hold on against the demand of the spell for it to fly over to the hand of Fred Weasley, but in the end the wand flew halfway between them to clatter to the ground.

The good news was that his spell had also struck his target, and surprisingly _both_ of their wands went flying as well, but in opposite directions.

"You're not Dean Thomas…" George said, a wicked smile on his face.

"…You're Harry Potter," Fred answered.

Ron's eyes went wide. "Blimey!" the orange haired boy called out, taken by surprise at the turn of events.

"Look, I'm not trying to hurt you, Ron. Fred, George, believe me, the last thing I want is for your brother to get hurt," Harry protested.

"Oh…" Fred said. Then he turned to slap Ron on the side of his head, causing the younger boy to collapse, unconscious.

"…We know," George finished as he pulled out a wicked looking knife. "But then again, Ron was never much of a brother to us."

Harry quickly kicked the desks immediately in front of him, sending the furniture flying towards the orange haired Gryffindors. The desks went right through them. The pair of them had turned into ghost-like versions of themselves, their orange hair flying out white behind them. And then they sunk partway into the floor and began gliding over towards him.

Harry cursed. "Oh, bollocks."


	25. Chapter 25: To Live or to Die

**Chapter 25: To Live or To Die?**

* * *

><p><em>01100111 01100111 01100111<em>

* * *

><p>Harry Potter used to really like the orange haired Weasley twins. They were fun, irreverent, and just the right people to go to if you wanted to pull a prank and not get caught. In hindsight, he realized that was probably their purpose, to ensure that any sort of conspiratorial behavior would not be harmful to the System. Students would go to them with their pranks and plots, and the Headmaster would let them do it, so long as it did not affect his plans. That was bad enough.<p>

Now, Harry doubly hated them. First, off they weren't people at all, and secondly, their idea of fun apparently involved stuffing Harry back into a machine plugged into the Matrix and using his brain to power their society. Whatever conceptions of the two Harry had once had were shattered within seconds of engaging the pair.

"But, you're Ron's brothers! How can you be Programs?" Harry had protested as he dodged the thrust of one of the twins' knives.

"Definitely not the brightest wand in the family," Fred commented to his brother with an evil grin.

"Indeed," George replied without missing a beat. "Harry Potter wonders how Ron Weasley's mum and dad could produce a pair of sons like us…"

"…without wondering how the Weasley mum and dad could actually have any children at all," Fred finished, even as Harry back flipped away from the pair.

Harry's eyes widened. Of course, it was easy to make the connections once the pair had said that. Humans in the Matrix weren't born, they were grown. When parents thought they were kissing and making out, in reality, there was nothing physical happening. So what exactly _were_ families in here then?

It was fortunate for Harry that whatever the Weasley twins were, they weren't fast, not like an Agent. In truth, Harry was "physically" much faster than the pair of them were, who were still forced to follow the rules of the System. They seemed to be strictly limited to exactly how fast a human could move. Harry had no such restrictions, or rather, he simply ignored them, and the System was obliged to adapt to what he told it he was doing.

Things like stabbing a broken chair leg through George Weasley's exposed forehead.

Unfortunately, George simply turned insubstantial, his red-orange hair inverting to a ghostly green and black. The grinning teen used the moment to move into a position to attack Harry the moment the wooden shaft passed out of his body. Harry was forced to leap backwards with an aerial flip once more to avoid the deadly strike, and then block a kick sent after him by Fred just as he landed.

The pair of them were aggravatingly coordinated in their attacks, just as they were in their speech. Every attempt Harry made to reach his wand, the one weapon he had been able to bring into the "Magical" world, was foiled by the pair of red headed twins' precision teamwork.

"Of course, people have to know where they came from…" Fred commented with a leer as George phased through a pair of desks in order to get a good shot at Harry. Fortunately, though, the the twins could not phase and strike at the same time, and the attack passed straight through Harry. But George continued to smile even as the attack failed.

"…a simple version number just isn't good enough for you lot, is it?" George joked as he swiped at Harry with a knife, who caught the red-head's arm and threw the Program in front of his incoming brother, who nimbly dodged aside as George twisted in the air to land on all fours, cat-like.

"…No, you humans have to know where you're from, what your purpose in life is, and all that rot," Fred finished for his brother. "And of course, telling the truth to you all about this is whole being batteries to power your captors deal is right out. Can't be letting that little cat out of the bag in here, now can we?" Fred attempted to flank Harry, jumping up onto a desk to menace loom over him, but Harry simply blurred towards him and kicked the desk sending it flying across the room with Fred on top of it. Fred smashed the wall and was a little slow getting up.

With a quick dive and a roll back to his feet, Harry once more had his wand in his hand. Unfortunately for him, George managed to retrieve his and his twin's at the same time. George casually tossed the length of wood over to his twin.

"And then there's that biological need to replicate," George added, continuing to attempt to goad Harry into a rash move, circling Harry warily as his "brother" got back to his feet and returned to his side.

"An entirely wasteful and inefficient process," Fred added, the evil grin back on his face, mirroring his twin. "There's no gain in recombining DNA in random ways…"

"…each version no better than the last, and sometimes even inferior. How pathetic." George agreed.

"Well, that's all very lovely and all," Harry said, "but coming from a mishmash of data and algorithms who exist solely for the purpose of _pretending to be humans, _Machines who have to keep us wired into their System because you can only define yourselves in terms of goals that we humans provide for you— I have to say that you're the ones looking pathetic about now."

"Oh, that stings, doesn't it George?" said George.

"Cuts me to the bone, it does, Fred," Fred replied.

Harry was about to tell them off for such an idiotic ruse as trying to make him confuse their names when the pair cast a pair of stunning spells simultaneously, firing the red beams of code at angles designed to force Harry to evade them in predictable angles.

"_Diffindo_! _Bombarda_!" Harry called, as he evaded the twins' answering spells. Harry's eyes widened as the curses he cast passed straight through the duo to gouge a large gash in the classroom floor beneath Fred and explode a desk just behind George.

"Oh, bollocks," Harry swore as he noted that the twins could phase through spells as well. He could only hope they couldn't phase through everything.

Harry tried a bone breaking hex and a banisher, next, only to find the entire room suddenly vanishing for the whiteness of the void. _Not now!_ He cursed to himself.

Fred and George just grinned and waded through the desks towards their retreating prey who seemed to be flickering in and out of existence.

* * *

><p><em>01101000 01101000 01101000<em>

* * *

><p>The main deck of the <em>Lupin<em> was by far the most roomy part of the third generation hovercraft. Its design was essentially the same as the centuries old machines Zion had inherited from previous generations of humans, possibly even dating back to before the Matrix and the fall of humanity, but unlike the aging ships with their exposed wiring and often rusted parts, the _Lupin's_ interior spaces were covered up in space-age plastics recovered from the ruins of old human settlements and in a nearly pristine condition. The ship's lighting was also far superior, with soft fluorescent strips illuminating the entire space, centering particularly on the six seats arranged in a circle at the center of the deck.

Which was why it was a surprise when the ship was suddenly plunged into darkness, just before an azure tendril of light arced out, lightning-like, to briefly illuminate the deck in an eerie flash of blue. After a couple seconds, the main deck lighting came back on, before chaos broke out.

Sirius looked with alarm at the monitors connected to his three crew members currently within the Matrix. Just a moment ago, he had seen what looked like phosphorescent energy emerge from where Harry was plugged in, to briefly crackle around the main deck. Now, alarms and warnings were going off, not only with Harry's interface, but with of Tonks' and Eon's as well.

"What the hell just happened?" Sirius demanded of his second in command.

"I have no idea," Remus answered as he frantically typed at the nearest keyboard connected to the virtual reality broadcast interface. "That's never happened before."

"Get them out of there, now!" the ship captain ordered.

Remus shook his head, "We can't! Their memory buffers just overloaded. If we unplug them now we won't be able to retrieve their minds."

Sirius cursed heavily, fists clenched as he watched the monitors of the three youngsters he was responsible for beep and protest all kinds of warnings. He knew he should have been the one to go in, possible or not! He shouldn't have sent those kids in there on their own.

And then the alarms died down. Remus sighed in relief. "It's okay," he said taking a breath as he studied the readout from the ship's VR systems. "The primary relays were all fried, but the backup system took over almost immediately. The ship's redundancies did their job. The memory buffer took over their active cognitive processes, which leaves them without a safety net, but that's better than the alternative." Remus looked up from the monitor to give his friend a reassuring look. "They'll be just fine."

The panic in Sirius's eyes melted away, to be replaced with an anger that didn't have a target. Yelling at Remus wouldn't help anything, but at a time like this he knew that he couldn't be calm. He turned his attention to the heart and brain monitors, which all showed normal activity, and snapped a question at Remus. "How did this happen?"

"I—I think it's the phenomenon peculiar to Harry, the strange feedback he creates when plugged into the system," Remus answered. "But that shouldn't be possible."

The intercom buzzed. "Is everything alright in there? We lost power for a moment, there," came Alastor's voice over the intercom.

"We had some kind of…electrical discharge down here," Remus answered. "But all systems seem to be working now."

"Shaq's on his way down," Alastor advised from the ship's control center.

"How could this have happened, Remus? I thought we had that issue under control?" Sirius demanded. He didn't like not knowing something about his ship, especially something dangerous. It was his responsibility to know about and prevent accidents like this.

"I don't know, Sirius," Remus replied. "We were careful. We designed Harry's interface so that nothing short of an EMP should have overloaded it like that." Remus checked the monitor again, getting the system's report of what happened. His eyes widened in surprise. "I don't believe it."

"What?"

"Just before the main system went down, there was a sudden spike in the special circuit embedded in Harry's interface to negate the interference feedback he produces." Remus paused. "The circuit managed to absorb 95% of the energy that was produced before it reached its capacity."

"Then, why did we have an overload?" Sirius asked.

"That was the remaining 5%," Remus answered.

Sirius stared hard at Remus for a second. "Just 5 percent? Then that would mean—"

"Is everyone alright down here?" came Shaq's voice. The man's usually kind eyes were clearly concerned.

"The systems took some damage, but everything is fine. Backups are up and running as designed. But we'll have to wait until we have a contact window before we can pull them out, there's no memory buffer right now."

"That's a relief," the Shaq's baritone breathed out his short-lived relief. "I'll go to—what's wrong with Eon and Tonks?"

Sirius cursed as the young woman started convulsing on the chair where she was plugged in. Then, there was a long, ominous beep as Eon's vital signs dropped to zero.

* * *

><p><em>01101001 01101001 01101001<em>

* * *

><p>"Mister Anderson," a cold, familiar voice called from the doorway of Borgin and Burke's shop. "You've been missed in Hufflepuff. Very naughty playing truant, you know."<p>

"Professor, Kettleburn," Eon replied, turning around to face the white bearded "wizard" who had just entered. He hadn't known the man long, but he remembered his former Hogwarts teacher. Eon removed his sunglasses momentarily, allowing his vision to get a better look at the code that comprised the Program. "How ironic that you were teaching _Magically Affected Creatures_ and how to deal with them when you're nothing but the same thing yourself. Just another out of control bit of code."

A pair of red robed figures entered the building to stand behind the Hogwarts teacher. "It is as expected. Rookwood _was_ compromised. They are using the Vanishing Cabinet as their entry point to Hogwarts," one of the two said emotionlessly.

"Termination of the intruder is the primary objective. Securing the access point is secondary," the other red robed wizard replied.

"Do not forget," Kettleburn said, holding out a restraining hand. "Mr. Anderson is still a Hogwarts student and under the authority of the Headmaster."

"Understood," said the first of the red robed men with a nod. "We will handle the female target, Nymphadora Diggle."

"Handle me?" Tonks scoffed, lowering herself down into a crouch as her hair shifted to a bright flaming red. "More like I'll stuff those sissy robes down your throats for calling me that name!"

"You're a fool if you think you can send me back to that imaginary school, Professor," Eon said, getting into a strong martial arts stance, one arm placed forward, the second behind his back. "Even if you had the strength to beat me, I'll never believe your lies again."

Kettleburn's old, grizzled face smirked. "When a magically affected creature is no longer suited for its purpose, then it must be removed." A quote from his course. The white haired and bearded man reached within his robes drew out a black wand with one hand, and a long serrated knife with the other. "I have no intention of bringing you back to Hogwarts, Mr. Anderson. It is just that non-Hogwarts staff are restricted from dealing with Hogwarts students. I will be the one to terminate you, John Anderson."

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Three identical jets of green shot from three upraised wands towards the pair of hackers dressed in their black trench coats. Each of the spells meant death.

But they were all moving much too slowly to have any chance of accomplishing their purpose. Tonks was moving before the curses were even being cast, dashing to the side towards where Borgins and Burke's merchandise was stored on the shelves. To Eon, the beams of green light seemed to be traveling in slow motion. He could see the bits of information comprising the beams of energy, the order to his body to die held within it. They were designed to be exactly twice as fast as a bullet from a handgun. Much faster than the curse flight towards him, Eon vaulted over the attack just as it reached the midway point, the former Hogwarts student heading straight for Kettleburn, who was himself just beginning to move.

Kettleburn was fast like an Agent. Eon was already faster than that. He had exceeded the speed of Agents when he had faced them after Harry had met the Oracle. By the time his former teacher managed to get a body length away to the right of his original position, Eon had already landed where the man had formerly stood and extended his leg out to kick the Program in the form of an aged man in the shoulder, sending it crashing to the far wall.

Tonks wasn't quite on the level of an Agent in terms of speed or strength. Nevertheless, she had a smirk on her face as she reached the side wall and began cart wheeling up the side of it, her hands reaching downwards. As she flipped over the incoming spells, she pulled a shining sword and a mirror-like shield from off of the shop counter.

"_Diffindo_!"

"_Expelliarmus_!"

_Snicker-snack!_

The jets of light from the two Aurors flashed towards Tonks, striking the mirror surface of her shield, only to be reflected back towards their casters. Only a quick movement prevented the cutting curse from striking the first of them, instead leaving a gash into the store's floor. The second auror did not react in time and had his wand knocked out of his hand.

And then the helmet of a suit of armor standing just behind the first robed wizard fell off and rolled on the floor towards the auror in front of him. The sword in Tonks' hand thrummed.

Eon drove his knee into Kettleburn's unprotected stomach before smashing him unceremoniously to the ground. Having his half of the fight well in hand, he took a moment to look over at Tonks' handiwork. He arched an eyebrow at the still rolling helmet.

Tonks grinned, holding up the new toys in her hands. "Shield of Spell Reflection and Vorpal Sword," she explained.

The two aurors looked at each other with some concern.

Without warning, Tonks and Eon felt the room spin, the white void of the Construct inserting them into the virtual world momentarily replacing the environment around them. To the Aurors and the downed Kettleburn, it seemed as if humans simply flickered in place. The Programs didn't hesitate.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Tonks felt the disarming spell strike the sword she held just as the virtual world around her was stabilizing for her. The sword and shield in her hands were wrenched from her, flying across the room. Disoriented, she stumbled, looking over towards her friend and crewmate.

Eon crumpled to the ground.

"EON!" Tonks screamed as she watched her friend's lifeless body. He was just lying there as if he had just been unplugged.

"And now, it's your turn, Nymphadora Diggle. Auror Kreacher, if you would do the honors?"

The red robed Program smiled, wickedly. "Of course. _CRUCIO!_"

* * *

><p><em>01101010 01101010 01101010<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>Duro<em>!" Harry yelled frantically, called out as the red headed Weasley twins closed in, evading the last of the desks between them that Harry had banished towards them.

"Expelliarmus!" the pair of false students yelled together. Harry jumped out of the way of one jet of light, only to be struck by the other.

Harry's wand obediently leapt away from him, despite his effort to clutch onto it.

"_Duro_?" Fred asked, a grin on his face.

"What did you think you could do to us with that?" George smiled. "We're not trolls you could turn to stone."

"Now, little Harri-kins, it's your turn. Don't worry…" Fred said.

"…this won't hurt a bit," George finished.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Fred and George stood watching Harry Potter, their cruel eyes fixated on the spot where he stood. Then they both fell over, like puppets with their strings cut.

Harry looked past where the Weasley twins had been standing to the wide-eyed Hogwarts student standing behind them, wand still held outstretched, a look of complete terror on his face. Harry had been saved.

Harry Potter had been saved...by Draco Malfoy.


	26. Chapter 26: Retreat

**Chapter 26: Retreat**

* * *

><p><em>01101011 01101011 01101011<em>

* * *

><p>Eon opened his eyes. He was surrounded by a familiar whiteness that stretched endlessly in all directions. "Where am I?" he asked aloud, but immediately frowned, for the idea of "aloud" did not really fit the place in which he was. What he heard as his "voice" was not made of sound, but was more of a pulse of thought.<p>

This wasn't the Matrix, nor was it the real world. It most closely resembled the Construct, the intermediary virtual environment where hackers could prepare themselves for insertion into another virtual environment, yet Eon could tell that somehow, this place was different. The interface was alien and uncomfortable, as if it were not meant to simulate human experience. Eon did not feel the connection to the Construct program as he should. Instead, though, he got a sense of where that connection would be.

It was a tiny line running from him to…the _Lupin_. To his body.

Eon visualized that connection as a thread, and a bright blue thread appeared, snaking through the expanse of white, until it plunged a distance away into the nothingness. That way would lead him back to his body, he knew. Eon started moving in that direction, when he felt the call of other connections. All around him, threads of yellow, green, orange, and silver began snaking outward to and from him, whispering bits and bytes of data to him like ghostly voices.

Eon stopped and turned. He could hear it. He could feel it. Off in the distance of the void, was a pulsing "light" that wasn't light, "sound" that wasn't sound. It was a brilliant, shining beacon of information. Eon instinctively understood what it was. The Source. The font from which all directives to the AI originated. And it was calling to him.

Hesitantly, Eon stepped in the direction of the Source. This was a chance to learn more about the Machines that he just could not pass up. He willed himself to continue to move in the direction of the concentration of data, and with each step, the glow in the distance became brighter. The whispers of ones and zeroes in his mind grew a little stronger.

He didn't notice, however, that with each step, the blue glowing thread back to the _Lupin_ grew a little dimmer.

* * *

><p><em>01101100 01101100 01101100<em>

* * *

><p>Harry stared at Draco Malfoy, unable to fully register what had just happened. Draco, for his part, was just shocked, frozen in place staring at the boy he had just saved. Harry Potter slowly pulled himself up off the ground while Draco very gradually lowered his wand.<p>

"Bloody Hell!" a voice from behind them startled the pair from their trance. Ron Weasley stood up from where he had been knocked by his "brother" with eyes comically wide. He pointed a shaking finger towards Harry. "You're not Dean Thomas, are you?" Ron asked apprehensively.

"No, Ron," Harry said, cancelling the function that hid his true image, his face and body morphing into the familiar unruly brown hair and vibrant green eyes Ron was familiar with. The lightning bolt shaped scar above his right eye made the picture complete. "It's me. Harry. I'm here to help you." Harry didn't know how much Ron had seen, but he hoped that it had been enough for Ron to start to trust him again. By now the System surely knew where Harry was, and the only thing likely preventing Aurors from arriving any second was the strict control the Headmaster maintained over the school. No apparating within Hogwarts.

"Fred…George…they were….they were…." Ron tried to find the words. "I saw them…and you were…"

"I'm sorry, Ron, they were never who—what we thought they were," he said apologetically.

"And you—you killed them," Ron said pointing to Draco, but there was no heat in the accusation. The red head was too stunned and confused to do much more.

Draco looked at Ron uncomfortably. "To be honest, I didn't think it was going to work. I just thought it would get their attention." That wasn't exactly an apology, but considering what had just happened, none was expected.

Harry looked around the classroom. It had been devastated. Smashed desks and chairs littered the floor, the little furniture in the room that was still in one piece had been overturned or pushed into the corners of the room. The walls of the classroom were scored with cuts and burn marks. Fred and George Weasley lay crumpled on the ground. It was quite a mess.

Harry stepped through the debris strewn inside of the classroom and retrieved his wand. He noticed neither of the other occupants of the room made any attempt to stop him. That, at least, was a good sign.

Harry regarded Draco, the boy still standing where he had been when he had cursed the Weasley twins. "Um, not that I'm not grateful, Draco, but why did you help me? We've never actually been friends," Harry asked, turning to the blond haired Slytherin boy. "Or did you think I was Dean Thomas?"

"No, I had figured out that it was you, Potter," Draco said. "I followed you from that room on the seventh floor after overhearing Granger talking to the mirror," Draco admitted, his eyes fixed on Harry. "I knew, this would be my only chance."

"Only chance for what?" Harry asked.

"To be a Dark Wizard." Draco took a step towards Harry, an eager look on his face. "I want you to teach me the Dark Arts, to teach me to be powerful like you. Teach me how to destroy our enemies!" Draco gestured towards all of the destruction in the room. "Take me to the Dark Lord and make me one of you."

Ron and Harry stared both at Draco like he was mental.

When Harry didn't immediately reply, Draco continued. "Binns said it. Dark wizards always target their best friends. Well, I don't have any friends who are dark wizards, but I knew that if I kept watch on Granger or Weasley, here, I would have my chance." Draco smiled smugly. "You owe me, Potter. And all I ask is that you give me the same chance you're gonna give Weasley. I'll do whatever it takes."

Harry shook his head. "Look, Draco, it's not what you think. I'm not actually a dark wizard at all. I'm not trying to turn Ron or anyone _Dark_. I'm just trying to save them."

"Don't give me that!" Draco spat. "I saw what you did in here. You move like Dumbledore does when he's mad! I want you to teach me how to beat _Them_." Draco looked at Harry intensely. "Yeah, I know about _Them_. And you can beat them. I may have cast the final spell, but you _fought them_ and they couldn't control you." Draco frowned for a second. "Actually, how _did_ my spell hit them? I saw you try the killing curse on them and it passed right through."

"I solidified the twins, just before you attacked," Harry explained. He moved quickly over to where Ron was still standing watching the exchange wordlessly. "Since the _duro_ spell doesn't need to physically touch a target to work and turns it solid, I figured it might force them to remain substantial. Unfortunately, they disarmed me before I could take advantage of that, but you attacked at just the right time. So…um…thanks for saving my life, Draco. But, well, I still can't make you into a dark wizard. There's no such thing."

"What do you mean there's no such thing?" Draco and Ron asked together.

"There aren't any dark wizards because there aren't really any wizards. There's no magic. The entire world we're living in is a lie." Harry sighed before reaching into his trench coat pockets. "Look, I don't really have time for this. I came in here to rescue Ron, but I'm out of time because of this unexpected fight. If I don't get out of Hogwarts now, I won't make it out at all, and then I won't be able to actually rescue anyone." Harry opened his hand. There were two glowing pills resting in his palm. One red, one blue.

"Sorry Ron, but I'm going to have to give you the really short, short version: The world you live in is a lie. You are trapped here against your will, and you don't know it," Harry said earnestly, facing towards his friend. "Everything you see, everything you touch or do here, is an illusion. I can't explain how this is, but it is. And this pill," Harry said, holding up the red one, "will take you out of the illusion. It will let you know the truth and allow you to escape. The real world isn't really super wonderful, but it is at least real."

There was a moment of silence as Draco and Ron processed what Harry was saying. "What about the blue pill?" Ron asked.

"The blue pill…will let you continue in the lie. It will put you to sleep and you'll wake up with the feeling that everything you just experienced was just a dream. It will be your choice if you want to believe that or not, but either way, the dream will protect you from the consequences of this meeting." Harry said. "It's your choice."

"I don't know, mate." Ron said slowly. "I mean, just an hour ago I thought you were some kind of evil dark wizard, and now you want me to believe a crazy story and eat a magic pill? Look, Harry, I honestly don't know what got into me before, and I'm sorry about thinking so many bad about you. I don't think you're evil, really…you're my best mate. But it's just…too much to believe you. I figure, maybe you're not evil, but you could be barking mad. I don't even _understand_ what you're trying to tell me."

Harry felt a jolt from the map in his pocket. A warning. Something was coming this way.

"Look, I'm out of time. Ron, mate, I hope you'll trust me. Take the pill and then go some place quiet." Harry put both pills in his friend's hands and headed for the door. "I'll see you on the other side."

"Wait, Potter!" Draco called out as Harry pulled on a cloak and stepped through the doorway. "Take me with you! I want to be a dark wizard! I'll do anything!"

Harry looked back at the blond haired boy, the arrogant jerk who had been a thorn in the side of him and his entire time at Hogwarts. Looking at him now, though, pleading with him to take him away, made Harry feel sympathy for the obnoxious prat. "Sorry, Draco, I just have the one pill."

The _Lupin_ could only save one mind at a time. Technology had come a long way, it was true. It no longer required a crew to actually be present inside the Matrix once the trace on a Red Pill had begun; the functions that were once carried out by people inside the System were now contained within the code for the pill. But on the outside, the ship still needed to be there to take a body out of the sewers once the hack successfully caused the System to release the person's body. One ship could only rescue multiple minds if they were located in the same physical cluster, and Harry thought it highly unlikely Draco just happened to be stored near Ron.

Harry sent one last, hopeful look back towards his friend and Draco, then hurried down the corridors of the school. He was out of time. As it was, it would take some luck to make it back out.

* * *

><p><em>01101101 01101101 01101101<em>

* * *

><p>Inside the whiteness of the void, Eon knew that distance had little meaning, and time was measured far differently than his human mind was accustomed. But it sure felt like he had been walking a long way towards the cluster of information that he knew was the Source. With each step forward, Eon felt more and more connections being made between him and the Machine world around him.<p>

On some level, he was aware of what was happening. He was becoming something more than he had been.

Eon. The One.

Eon realized that he was not inside the Construct created by the _Lupin's_ systems, or any system from Zion. Instead, this virtual experience was some kind of shared connectivity between AI. The Programs communicating with him through the connections that were being made not only accepted his presence, he noted, they were obeying his commands. It seemed, as the One he had access to anything he desired.

Eon knew that the more connections he made to the Source, the more control he could exercise. At the Source itself, he would be essentially part of the entire System itself, able to accomplish anything. By now, there were thousands of distinct threads stretching from him out into the distance towards the hub of AI activity. Eon was becoming part of that, and he knew that was important for some reason. He had a role to fulfill, and he would soon learn what that role was. Once he reached the Source and received his instructions.

Eon frowned, momentarily. The idea of being told what he was to do was _wrong_ for some reason. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was that was wrong with the idea but—

A scream pierced his ears.

Ears.

He had ears. Back along the blue thread, that faded thin blue thread leading back to the _Lupin_, he had a body with ears, eyes, a mouth…and a bunch of other organs. He was alive there. The screaming was coming from there. Someone on the other side was screaming.

It was Tonks.

Alarm spread through Eon. Tonks was in terrible, terrible pain! He needed to go back. He needed to go back and save her! Eon stopped where he was, stopped heading towards the massive interconnected space not so far away now as it had been. Then there was a surge of data flowing into him from the Source, telling him, insisting that he continue on his way to being the One. Any other concern was secondary to this one most important purpose. It would be easy to simply follow the command he was being given.

It only took one step, and Eon was back where he started. The thread leading to the _Lupin_ and his body was once more strong and clear. If he followed that, he would arrive back to where his body was and he would wake up.

But Tonks wasn't being hurt back on the _Lupin_. She was being hurt in the Matrix. Going back to his body would not help her. He needed to go where she was hurting. He followed the connection to the _Lupin_, not back to his body, but in the other direction, to where it split off and vanished into the System. Into the Matrix.

* * *

><p><em>01101110 01101110 01101110<em>

* * *

><p>Shaq, Remus, and Sirius were all standing around Tonks as she screamed in agony. Tears were streaming down Sirius' cheeks as he fought to hold her body still. She was screaming and her body was actually spasming on the platform where her body was strapped in, threatening to pull free of the data probe plugged into the back of her head.<p>

It took severe pain to make body react to something that happened inside the Matrix. Sometimes the body responded on reflex to the signals sent to it, jerking with the impact of a particularly powerful blow or clenching to brace for an impact when struck by significant force. But for someone to actually scream out loud? Sirius had never seen that happen before.

"Just unplug her! Don't let this torture continue!" It broke his heart to give the order, but it was breaking his heart to see the girl he thought of as family in such agony.

"Captain! If we do that, we'll lose her!" Shaq shouted back. He was horrified at the thought of unplugging someone. But Shaq didn't understand.

"Nobody should have to endure this," Sirius growled. He looked over at Remus, the only person he knew who had shared his tortures back in the virtual world. They had locked him up and done unspeakable things to him before his eventual rescue. He understood what it was like to feel agony inflicted in Virtual Reality. The experience may have been virtual, but the pain was real. If it were him, he would have wanted someone to end it.

Remus looked at his friend, hesitatingly. He put his hand on the data probe sticking into the back of Tonks's head. "If you're sure."

Then there was a loud, sudden blip from across the room, where another person was. The monitors by the seat where Eon was plugged in, where his brain patterns and heart rate had both flat lined, were suddenly ablaze with activity. A second later, Tonks stopped screaming. Remus pulled his hand from off of the connection as if it were heated metal, while Sirius dropped his head into his hands.

What he had almost ordered his best friend to do…

* * *

><p><em>01101111 01101111 01101111<em>

* * *

><p>Eon was on his feet, back in Borgins and Burke's in exactly the same position he had been when the Killing Curse had struck him. He was there again, black trench coat falling down at his feet and sunglasses on his face. The auror a few paces away was holding a wand over Tonks' prone form as she screamed.<p>

Eon _moved_.

The entire building shuddered with the effect of the motion, and suddenly Eon was standing right in front of the auror, standing like an avenging angel of Death. Eon shoved his hand into the heart of the Program and locked eyes with it.

"Delete," he commanded.

There was a flash of light around the former-auror's form, a scream strangled from its lips and terror in its terrified eyes, and then it was gone.

Eon had no pity for simulated emotions. He saved his concern for his crewmate. Cooly, Eon gave Tonks a quick visual examination. She had stopped screaming and thrashing, but remained down on the ground, not moving. Eon turned from her, back towards the remaining two Programs in the room.

"_Avada Ke_—"

Before the red robed Auror could finish the incantation, Eon had leaped to him and kicked him through the wall of Borgin and Burkes. At the moment of impact between Eon's foot and the Auror's chest, time seemed to freeze, as the force of the strike created a shockwave that tore apart the ground beneath where the Auror had stood. There would be no getting up from that.

Kettleburn was staring at where Auror Kreacher had been. The Program wasn't just gone from the Matrix. It had been erased entirely. That should have been impossible. "How did you—"

Eon was in Kettleburn's face before the sentence completed. "Easy, professor. I am the One." And then Eon destroyed Hogwart's professor of _Magically Affected Creatures_ just as he had the Auror who had tortured his friend.

The young hacker paced over to Tonks, put his hands on her, and frowned. There was nothing wrong with her connection, but she was nonetheless not conscious. He was sure if there was something wrong with the code, or even wrong with her virtual avatar, that he could fix it. Even here, inside the Magical section of the Matrix, the authority of the One would be recognized. However, there was nothing he could do for neurological damage.

He frowned. Harry would need his help, but first he had to get Tonks to safety. He took a look at Tonks, then at the Vanishing cabinet.

* * *

><p><em>01110000 01110000 01110000<em>

* * *

><p>The halls of Hogwarts were, thankfully, mostly empty as Harry hurried along. Cloaked as he was in the function that disguised him from detection by any Program, Harry could safely ignore the watchful gazes of the portraits lining the hallways and the occasional prowling ghost floating through the walls of the castle. The soft carpeting on the corridors prevented the sounds of his footfalls from alerting anyone of his presence.<p>

The only complication Harry had on the upper levels of the school was navigating the moving stairways. Normally, a student needed to "tell" the stairs where they wanted them to go, but that was not an option for an intruder trying not to alert the Headmaster to his position. Fortunately, Harry had an alternative method of getting from floor to floor. When Harry finally arrived at the end of the hallway and found the stairs all leading away from the exit to the school, he didn't hesitate.

He jumped straight over the edge of the stairwell.

After running through the training programs Sirius and Tonks put him through, leaping from one floor to another was child play. Harry tumbled through the air, twisting around a chandelier suspended "magically" in midair, and planted his feet above the second floor wall. He ran a few steps horizontally before kicking off to twist in the air once more and land on the lowest level of the stairwell. Harry would still need to descend one more set of stairs before he made it out of Hogwarts, but that staircase was located on the other side of the school.

No sooner had Harry landed then he noticed the revealing spell cast over the entire level. Unlike the standard revealing spell which searched specifically for the codes for humans, this new code functioned to detect any new object within the boundaries of the spell. It would treat a stray cat, a bowling ball, or a freed mind exactly the same. Unfortunately for Harry, his cloak wouldn't prevent detection from a function such as this. The Hogwarts staff undoubtedly now knew his whereabouts.

Harry quickly palmed his wand. "_Avis_!" he called out, conjuring a swarm of small birds which quickly scattered around the hallway. "_Engorgio_!" he added the enlargement charm a moment later, causing several of the birds to expand to near human size, each flapping away down a different corridor of the castle. Harry quickly vaulted up the walls to the ceiling, bracing himself in the shadows of one corner with his hands and feet.

Seconds later, the sounds of hurried steps filled the hall. The diminutive form of Filius Flitwick, accompanied by a pair of red robed Aurors entered the hall where Harry had just been.

"Hmm, a bird conjuring charm," the Charms professor noted. "A clever ruse to blind our revealing spell. We will need to split up to investigate each suspicious object. You are authorized to use any means necessary to stun Mr. Potter, but so long as he does not escape the castle, he is not be killed." The red robed Aurors chorused their understanding.

A fourth voice, one familiar to Harry, called out from further down the corridor. Minerva McGonagall walked into sight at a brisk pace, her tall black hat and conservative black dress making her look exceptionally witch-like, fitting the archetype perfectly. "Don't you think we should be focusing on catching Black? Mr. Potter may be misguided and a threat to some of our students, but he's not capable of entering the castle on his own. If we can capture Sirius Black it might be possible to save Mr. Potter and perhaps even some of the others."

Harry listened intently. From the sound of it, McGonagall was not a Program. That didn't mean she wasn't a traitor, though.

"Trust me, Minerva, Potter has become a very serious threat. Black has taught him some very dark magic. Remember what Albus told you."

"Yes, Filius, I will alert the Headmaster if I am the one to locate Mr. Potter," the Transfiguration professor said with a nod. "I don't know why Albus is not taking advantage of my experience. I may not be Auror-trained or a duelling champion like you, but I am more than capable of handling myself."

"Of course, Minerva," Filius said amiably, "Dumbledore trusts you and has faith in your ability. It's just that dealing with a dark wizard is a matter that requires specialized training. Now, please report to the Headmaster that Mr. Potter is using the _Avis_ charm to set off our revealing spell."

McGonagall nodded. "Of course, Filius. It's just so hard to believe that such a kind boy as Harry Potter could be corrupted," she remarked as she walked back down the hallway.

Harry watched from the shadows of the hallway as his Transfiguration professor and former head of house retreated, then as Flitwick set off down one of the corridors he had sent the enlarged conjured birds. Harry was grateful the castle had such high ceilings, making it easy to hid away in a corner. Too bad he hadn't thought to bring a broom.

Carefully, Harry Potter dropped down to the castle's stone floor, kicking off of the walls to slow his descent. Harry quickly made his way back through the castle halls, conjuring more birds and enlarging some of them as he went along to make finding him even more difficult. He knew the Programs would notice a pattern in where the conjured birds were coming from, but with his cloak he would be indistinguishable to them from any other object. Harry passed the walls lined with statues and suits of armor, taking an indirect route towards the exit, through the Trophy room which contained the glory of Quidditch teams past.

Just a couple rooms to go and—someone was behind him. "_Colloportus_!" The doors to the room all suddenly locked. He was trapped.

Harry whipped out his wand. "_Locus tutus!_" The privacy charm that would prevent anyone from seeing or hearing anything within the room. It wouldn't buy him much time, but with much of the school staff out searching for his conjured birds, Harry hoped it would be enough. He had a good idea who it was who had ambushed him.

Harry looked to the spot he had just passed, where a suit of armor had been. Professor McGonagall now stood in its place, her long robes and black pointed hat morphing into shape as she untransfigured herself. "That is as far as you go, Mr. Potter," his Transfiguration professor said, her aged face stern and her wand pointed firmly in Harry's direction. "If you turn in Black, the Ministry may go easy on you."

Harry shook his head ruefully. "I'm sorry, Professor, I can't let you stop me. I don't want to fight you, but I _will_ be getting out of this school."

McGonagall brandished her wand, whispering an incantation. For a brief moment, Harry's form wavered, shrinking down. Harry could feel the spell. The code affecting him included the specification for a mouse's form, as well as instructions for imprinting the limited set of functions available to and the identity of the rodent over the mind of the target. She was trying to turn him into a mouse.

_No._

Harry refused the commands of the code, asserting his own self-image on the Matrix, forcing it to accept his choice of reality. Professor McGonagall's eyes went wide as she watched the transformation reverse and Harry return to his normal form, still holding onto his wand. Harry gave her a sad look. "You should have followed Flitwick's instructions, Professor." Harry fired a Stunner straight at her.

For a second, the room lost focus.

"_Protego_!" McGonagall called out, just in time, the red beam bouncing off the protection she had called up. Her shield buckled. Perhaps Albus was right to worry. Potter was much more dangerous than she had thought. Oddly, enough, for a moment, she thought she saw her student seem to flicker where he stood. Whatever it was, she would need to use stronger magic to overcome him. "_Piertotum Locomotor!_" she called out.

Harry's disorientation as the Matrix world around him was disrupted was only momentary, but by the time he got his bearings, he found himself being held in place by a pair of suits of armor. He struggled against them, but their grip was like iron. McGonagall was quick to capitalize on Harry's confusion and lack of mobility. "_Incarcerous_!" McGonagall waved her wand and ropes were conjured to bind Harry.

"Sirius Black may have taught you some dark magic tricks, Mr. Potter, but if you think leaving behind Hogwarts improved your magical education, you are sorely mistaken," the witch scolded. Minerva walked forward, with a look on her face that seemed half smug at her apparent victory and half sad at the necessity of subduing her favorite student. "I take no pleasure in your capture, Mr. Potter. You have been deceived by a cruel and evil man."

With a deep breath, Harry looked his former teacher in the eye, a defiant glint making the elderly woman pause. "You've got that backwards, I'm afraid, Professor. I'm not the one who has been deceived by someone cruel and evil." A small, bitter smile found its way on to Harry's face. "I can see that you're not a traitor, like Snape is. You're just another victim of the Headmaster's lies, maybe even one of the first he ever tricked. I'm actually glad about that, Professor. You've always been a good person. It would have broken my heart to know that you were in on it too."

Minerva frowned and shook her head. "It is clear that you've had your mind twisted, Mr. Potter. I will try to see if the Ministry might give you leniency considering your age and the fact that you haven't yet harmed any witch or wizard that we know of."

"I'm not here to hurt anyone, Professor. I'm not the enemy. The enemy is the Headmaster and the world of lies he built around us."

McGonagall was taken aback by that declaration. "I cannot believe you would say that, after all he has done for you especially! Albus Dumbledore is a great man!"

Harry struggled against the ropes binding him, but they would not give, and even if they had, the grip of the two suits of armor grasping his wrists and elbows held him even more firmly. Despite this, Harry remained unperturbed.

"No, he's not," Harry replied. "He's not even a man at all. The Headmaster is using you… using all of us, but you can't see it. It's not your fault, though, Professor. The lies he tells are so perfect that it's almost impossible to realize the truth on your own."

"And what truth is it that you think you have realized, Mr. Potter?" It was clear that McGonagall did not believe anything Harry was saying, but she still wanted to know why a student she had known well would turn against the school.

So, Harry told her. "The truth is, Professor, that Hogwarts is not a school. It's a prison."

McGonagall shook her head sorrowfully. "After everything that was given to you here, you would believe that?"

Instead of answering her, Harry looked at his professor in the eye. "Tell me, Professor, have you ever had the feeling that there was something not right with the world? Felt like you were dreaming the things around you, and that your dreams were more real than the waking world? Ever wake up from a dream you thought was real?" The professor didn't answer.

"Have you ever looked at a picture or an object, only for it turn into sound or numbers? Do you ever feel as if your memories are not all your own?" Harry could tell by McGonagall's reaction that his words were hitting home. "Tell me, Professor, have you ever dreamed—for just a second—that you had woken up with your body covered in a warm goo, and you were unable to move? And do you sometimes dream of a void stretching out all around you, and get the feeling that you are trapped inside your own mind?"

"How…how do you know…?" McGonagall's shook her head and stumbled away from Harry shaking her head in denial.

"You're trapped in here, Professor. You have been your whole life. And that's why I'm here, to help people like us get out, to get free."

"No," McGonagall denied. "That can't be true. Magic explains all of that. It's what we teach here at Hogwarts. All of those things are because of magic."

"That's just it, Professor," Harry said, smiling sadly. "There is no magic."

McGonagall quirked an eyebrow. "Then what do you call this?" she asked, pointing to the suits of armor holding Harry and the rope tying him up.

"That's not really here. In fact, I'm not really here. And even you, you're not really here." With each statement, Harry felt the grip on him loosen. Not because the armor was releasing him, or the rope was slackening, but because his mind acknowledged that the entire situation wasn't real, and if it wasn't real, how could it be tight? How could it even bind him? "There is no rope. There is no armor. _There is no magic_."

Saying that was very liberating. Literally. The armor holding Harry crashed to the floor, the rope binding him unbound itself and then disappeared. McGonagall gasped. She tried to raise her wand, but before she could even lift her arm, Harry Potter was behind her, snatching the wand from her hand and gripping her wrist tightly behind her back.

"How did you….?" The Transfiguration teacher's head was spinning. What Harry had done was impossible. What he had said was impossible. This couldn't be. It was wrong, all wrong.

Minerva McGonagall began to shake, her eyes going wide as the denial within her warred with her cognitive dissonance, disrupting her connection with the Matrix. Harry frowned as he saw the symptoms. Disassociation. Soon, her mind would disconnect from the Matrix, possibly unable to reconnect.

Harry Potter stepped away from his Transfiguration professor and quickly Stunned her. He hoped that would be enough to protect her mind. She wasn't ready to be freed, even if he somehow could. Perhaps it was too late for her. Harry left her lying in the Trophy room.

Harry touched the door of the room…and saw what was waiting on the other side. They were waiting for him. Harry turned the handle and stepped through.

* * *

><p><em>01110001 01110001 01110001<em>

* * *

><p>"Tonks isn't waking up," Remus informed as he examined the young woman lying on the table next to him, motionless except for her breathing. "Her brain scans show severe trauma. Whatever happened to her in there…it damaged her. Likely permanently."<p>

Sirius swore loudly, pounding his hand against the ship's interior. "Get Eon and Harry out now. Do whatever it takes."

Remus nodded. "Come on, Eon. You got Tonks out, now it's your turn."

The console flashed red. An error message flashed on the screen. "That's not possible."

"What is it?" Shaq asked, looking over from where he was checking Tonks' breathing.

"Something is overriding my attempt to pull Eon out," Remus answered with a bewildered expression on his face.

"Is our broadcast signal not strong enough? Maybe they need to get to a hard line?" Shaq asked.

Remus shook his head. "We've got the equivalent of a hard line connection already. The signal is clear enough to retrieve him without any issue. It's something else, as if we don't have the necessary permissions, but since he's jacked in through our systems, that can't be possible."

"What about Harry?" Sirius asked. "We should get him out before our window into the encrypted section closes."

"No good," Remus said. "The encryption there is on a whole different level, it's an entire generation ahead of the rest of the code. The only way we've been able to get in there at all is with Trojan programs, and we have no way of inserting one right now. Until Harry gets clear of that place, we can't retrieve him."

"Damn it!" Sirius cursed. "If there's another feedback surge like before…"

"I know," Remus replied. "There was another spike in the feedback a few minutes ago, but the suppression circuit was able to handle it." Remus was now standing over Harry's prone form, concern in his eyes.

A console by Sirius beeped. The dark-haired captain touched the screen several times, then frowned. "Well, it seems Harry did it. The Trace program completed successfully. We have the Target's location and release code. As soon as we get Eon and Harry back, we can go get them." Sirius looked over at Tonks's motionless form. "Whoever they are, they'd better be worth it."

* * *

><p><em>01110010 01110010 01110010<em>

* * *

><p>Harry stepped through the door leading to the entrance hall of Hogwarts castle. The massive portcullis that separated the interior of the school with the rest of the "magical" part of the Matrix was just ahead. It may as well have been a million miles away.<p>

Standing in front of that singular exit was the Headmaster. Albus Dumbledore had closed every other path out of the school. The various doors that could take students and staff throughout the Matrix world had been locked. The windows and secret passages had all been closed off. Portkeys, the floo network, and appartion had all been disabled. The only way out of this world within a world within a world was straight through the one person with absolute power over the entire place.

Harry Potter stepped forward, completely calm.

"Ah, Harry, I was beginning to wonder when you would get here," the old man with the white beard and powder blue robes said, speaking as if nothing in the world were amiss. "You are, about two minutes later than I had anticipated." The Headmaster adjusted the half-moon spectacles on the bridge of his nose. "You can remove that invisibility cloak of yours. It may fool others, but nothing can escape my notice in this place."

"I know, Headmaster. Sorry for my tardiness. I was just having a chat with the Deputy Headmistress," Harry replied, even as he slipped the cloak from off of his back to let it fall to the ground at the top of the stairs down. "I hope you won't dock Gryffindor for keeping you waiting."

Harry could visibly see lines of code within the walls of the room flowing into the Headmaster, he could see the control the man had over the virtual environment. It was total.

The Headmaster chuckled. "Oh, most certainly not. In fact, I'm quite prepared to do just the opposite if you would be willing to comply with me. Your attempt to break in here was very brave and bold, quite Gryffindorish, but doomed to failure from the start, I'm afraid."

Harry continued walking, down the steps and straight towards the Headmaster. When he got to within fifteen feet of the exit doors, he stopped. This was where he needed to be.

"I guess it depends on how you look at it, Professor. I may not have freed the person I came to free, but there was a lot I learned while I was here. That alone was worth the trip. When I get back to the real world, that knowledge is going to be very valuable."

Dumbledore shook his head. "If you think you will leave this school, Harry, you are mistaken. Every way out of this school has been sealed off. While you may be strong enough to defeat an Auror, you cannot possibly defeat me. Not here."

Harry smiled. "I know. I've seen how this ends."

For the first time since Harry had met Dumbledore, there was a look of annoyance on the Headmaster's face. "You certainly did a number on Professor Trelawney. It will likely be months before we are able to restore what you managed to damage with that _Confundus_. But while I may not be as able to use our predictive functions quite as well as our esteemed Divinations Professor, I'm good enough at the subject to know that there is nothing you can do to escape this situation."

Harry nodded, acknowledging the Headmaster's point.

"As you know, Mister Potter, I have would have no compunction at all in casting the Killing Curse on all of your friends if it would suit my purpose, which we both know would result in their termination out in the real world. As you know, I am not human. So now, you have a choice. Surrender yourself willingly and you will not only spare your friends here in the castle, but thousands of others, an unnecessarily premature death. I will have to erase quite a few memories, but that will be much easier and less damaging than the alternative."

Harry watched the Headmaster stoically, waiting. He could feel what was coming. Dumbledore would offer him a choice.

"Why fight me when all that will happen is that you will end up hurting those you care about? Were you aware that because of you the location of Mr. Anderson and Ms. Diggle was compromised? Your struggle will cost many more their lives if you continue opposing your destiny at this school."

There, that was the word. The moment he had foreseen was almost here. There was a buzzing sound in the air, as if destiny itself was approaching.

"All you have to do, Harry, is lay down your wand and give me the coordinates of your ship, and I will arrange for your capture. I am even willing to instruct the sentinels we will send to disable your ship _not_ to kill your crew mates." The white bearded Headmaster had an affable expression on his face that Harry knew was entirely fake. "If you resist, though, I will take the information from your mind forcefully, and then they will all die. The choice, as it were, is yours, Mister Potter."

"Well," Harry said, "that's quite a deal you're offering me. But I've got a better one."

"Oh?" Dumbledore replied.

"How about," Harry held up one hand and stuck up his middle finger. "I give you the finger. And you open up the front door for me?"

"Harry, my boy, don't think that—"

Dumbledore was blasted through the front gate by a black blur that appeared out of nowhere. Then the shockwave hit the castle, ripping paintings off the walls, tearing up the carpet, and sending magical chandeliers crashing to the corridors they had hung above.

Eon had arrived.

"Now I see why you liked Quidditch so much," the older teen said while holding a hand out.

"Brilliant!" Harry said with a grin. "Just get us outside Hogwarts boundaries, and I can take us the rest of the way."

"Hang on." Eon gathered himself, wind kicking up from around him before he sped out through the gates which the Headmaster had just been smashed through, carrying Harry along with him. The pair soared up and out before they disappeared with **CRACK!**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> One more chapter left. Unless there's two. If you've liked the story, please read and review.


	27. Chapter 27: Journey of Recovery

**Chapter 27: Journey of Recovery**

* * *

><p><em>0111001<em>_1__ 0111001__1__ 0111001__1_

* * *

><p>It was a bright, sunny day, perfect for a picnic. Harry Potter sat beneath the warm blue sky with a smile on his face. He could hear the birds chirping and felt a pleasant breeze blow casually through his comfortable Muggle clothes. Harry took a drink of the fresh lemonade from the paper cup sitting on the wooden picnic table, before a heavy pat on his back nearly made him spit it all out.<p>

"Wotcher, Harry?" Tonks said with a grin. It was more of a greeting than a question, and Harry just felt happy seeing the pretty young woman with bubblegum pink hair.

Across the table, Sirius and Remus were fighting over the same piece of barbecue chicken. Sirius was stabbing at it with a two-pronged poker, while Remus was fencing him away with the tongs he was using at the grill. They both had amusingly serious expressions on their faces, totally at odds with the situation.

"That one is mine, let go, I saw it first!" Sirius demanded.

"Forget it! There are plenty of other pieces, Sirius, just grab one of the other ones."

The two of them locked their respective implements in combat while staring each other in the eyes, literally growling at each other. After a second of this, they both broke apart with a smile. Sirius then sneakily speared the piece of poultry during the momentary ceasefire, while Remus loudly complained.

A short distance away, Eon was busy playing Frisbee with Shaq and a grumpy looking Alastor. The three of them were dressed in loose fitting T-shirts and shorts, Alastor's artificial leg looking comical sticking out of the athletic shorts.

Harry looked over to the open field where the crew of the _Pius_ was playing volleyball with Neville Longbottom, Cedric Diggory, and a few of the other children from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Minerva McGonagall stood by the net serving as the referee. Up above them Harry watched as Ron and Hermione flew around, tossing a Quaffle back and forth, trying to keep it away as the _Lupin_ swooped between them, the hovercraft attempting to knock the ball out of their hands.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione beckoned, a warm smile on her face. "We need you up here! I'm not all that good on a broom, you know!"

"Yeah, mate!" Ron grinned. "Come on up!"

Harry's broom was in his hand in an instant, and then he was soaring up into the sky, calling out as the exhilaration of flight coursed through him. He flew a complete circle around the _Lupin_, even reaching out to the touch the electrical discharge from its pads as he passed near them. Then he shot forward, accelerating without any constraint or limitation, and grabbled the Quaffle out of the air. "Woohoo!" he shouted out again.

Then, just as Harry was rising back up into the air, the sky suddenly clouded up and thunder rolled across the picnic area. The grassy park was quickly beshadowed and a chill wind blew through the air. "Oh my, they're coming," Minerva McGonagall said in a whisper, backing away as a dark fog rolled in to surround the entire area.

Lightning flashed out from the darkened sky and struck the _Lupin_, which exploded into a murder of crows that scattered out into the air, cawing and crying out, before being swallowed up by the scorched sky and the fog. Harry, Ron, and Hermione dropped down to the ground, as everyone began gathering together with by the picnic table and barbeque pit. The ill weather quickly encircled them all.

It was then that dark figures emerged from the fog, a hundred men wearing business suits and no-nonsense sunglasses, Agents each of them, followed by a hundred red robed Aurors. They quickly encircled Harry and the rest of the picnickers. Then, directly in front of Harry, the Hogwarts staff emerged with the ominously smiling face of Albus Dumbledore standing in the center of them, leading the way. His eyes were a demonic red.

"I told you, Harry," Dumbledore said, shaking his head sadly. "_Your struggle will cost many more their lives if you continue opposing your destiny_."

There was something in the way those words sounded, something in the way that they echoed, that made Harry certain that they were true. They were inevitable.

"_All you have to do, Harry, is lay down your wand__._ The choice, as it were, is yours, Mister Potter."

Up above in the sky, scorched by Operation Dark Storm, a humming sound began quickly growing closer and louder, before revealing itself to be an onslaught of Squiddies, the hunter-killer robots diving out of the storm as everyone began to scream and run. But not everyone could flee, for out of the ground, wires erupted and began twisting and constricting those who were not being impaled by the spiked tentacles of the sentinels. Harry watched as Ron and Hermione were constricted by wires from the ground, screaming in agony, while Tonks cried out as a tentacle stabbed through her chest.

Harry cried out in anger, his wand suddenly in his hand, and he began blasting the sentinels left and right, but as the light of his magic destroyed one, it would split into two more. He could blast a dozen of them, only for them to reform out of their own debris into two dozen. It was futile. His friends were either all slain or dragged down beneath the ground by the wires. And then the sentinels all flew off, leaving Harry alone, surrounded by the dead of his friends whose bodies still remained.

"I warned you, Harry," Dumbledore said with a reproving cluck.

Furious, Harry charged forward, brandishing his wand, only for the black fog to swarm in and engulf him. Frantically, Harry swung around, firing off hexes with his wand, but the sound of Dumbledore's laughter was all he got in return, echoing around him.

"Where are you!" Harry screamed, lashing out.

And then there was a sudden stillness, as all sound faded away. The fog parted, and the sky cleared, but the darkness remained. Harry was gasped for breath, shifting back and forth, trying to make out anything.

And then he felt it. A presence. In the darkness, it was taking shape. It was coming closer.

Twin eyes of red. A face. A mocking smile. It formed out of the shadow.

Voldemort.

"I'm coming for you, Harry Potter," the voice said, though the mouth of the image didn't move.

Harry shook his head defiantly. "NO!...NO!"

* * *

><p><em>01110<em>_100__ 01110__100__ 01110__100_

* * *

><p>"NO!...NO!"<p>

"Harry!" a voice called, anxiously, and then again, "HARRY!"

Harry Potter bolted upright. It took him a moment to realize where he was, and who it was that surrounded him. He was back on the _Lupin_. He was surrounded by his anxious crewmates. Remus. Sirius. Shaq. Eon.

Harry let out a relaxed breath of relief and relaxed back down on the inclined chair. "Oh, Merlin, I thought you had all died!"

The other people aboard the ship who were gathered around Harry exchanged looks.

"For a minute there, that's what we were afraid about _you_, kid," Shaq said, relief clear in his voice. "When we unhooked you from the System and you didn't respond, we were all really worried."

"Yeah, Harry, we were all worried about you," Eon said. "We were afraid something happened to you in there that interfered with your Exit. Things definitely didn't go as we planned them to."

Harry sat all the way up again and looked around at his crewmates a bit sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry about that, that was mostly my fault. I sort of had a premonition about what was going to happen and…well, I knew if I didn't take advantage of the situation I'd never get another chance at it."

At the word premonition, the other crew members of the hovership gave each other meaningful looks once more, before the second in command sighed and put his hands on Harry's shoulder.

"Harry," Remus said sternly, looking Harry in the eye, "what you did was very brave, but also incredibly reckless. We have procedures and protocols for how to run missions for a reason. As important as what we do is, your life and that of the rest of the crew is just as important. There's always more than enough danger, every time we go in there without adding to it."

"I know, Remus, and I really tried to be careful, but the chance I had…I just couldn't pass it up. And the things I learned…well, it's unbelievable."

"Regardless…"

"Alright, we'll yell at the boy later," Sirius said brushing his friend aside and giving Harry a big hug and then releasing him. "Right now, let's let him recover. You can debrief us after you've had a chance to see your newly freed friend."

At that, Harry perked up. "You got him out?" Harry asked.

Sirius nodded. "While you were still out of it. Shaq hauled him in. Though, we thought it was going to be a she."

"So, I really succeeded!" Harry exclaimed, grabbing Sirius around the shoulders. "Then all the risk was worth it."

"The important thing is that you and Eon got out safely," Remus responded, still in a bit of a lecturing mode. "Freeing your friend is secondary to that."

Despite Remus's warm smile that accompanied the slight criticism, Harry could feel something was off. He got an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach as he slowly looked around the room, taking stock of everything. Now that the relief about his recovery had passed, Harry could tell something was bothering everyone. It was then that Harry started to notice the electrical damage to many of the electrical systems around his seat. As well as Eon's and Tonks.

"Where's Tonks?" Harry asked.

"Harry…" Eon began, "that wasn't your fault."

Harry got up off of his seat and looked around again in earnest, noting in particular the damaged controls at the seat next to his. "Where's Tonks?" Harry repeated.

"She's in the medical compartment, Harry," Remus said softly. "There was…an incident while you were in the double layered encryption. Agents…attacked Eon and Tonks. Both of them took a fair bit of mental damage during the fight…"

Harry's eyes opened wide, a sudden pain marring the brightness of his normally brilliant green eyes. "She'll be okay, right? The safety systems, they worked, right?"

Shaq shook his head. "There was an overload, Harry, the safety systems were compromised. The ship systems managed to keep all of you connected in there, but after the accident the mind buffers weren't running. You were all at risk, not just Tonks."

Words from Dumbledore came back to strike Harry in force. _"__Were you aware that because of you the location of Mr. Anderson and Ms. Diggle was compromised? Your struggle will cost many more their lives if you continue opposing your destiny at this school.__"_

Harry sunk his head into his hands, slumping down to the ship's floor. Tears flowed down his eyes. "It was me," Harry sobbed. "It was all me."

"No, Harry, that's not true," Remus said, putting his arms comfortingly around the young man.

"It's whatever is wrong with me, wasn't it?" Harry said, looking up briefly to face Remus. "Whatever keeps screwing up the computer systems when I'm hooked in. That's what caused the electrical damage to the ship. I'm right, aren't I?"

The lack of denial was all Harry needed to see. He felt self-loathing, anger at himself more than he had ever felt before, and he clenched his fists in anguish.

"You're right, Harry, the electrical damage did come from your console. Maybe you're the source, though we can't say for certain. But, both Tonks and Eon were fine after that. The electrical damage didn't cause the damage that happened to her," Sirius said kindly. "It was the Machines that hurt them, not you."

"He's right, Harry," Eon reassured. "Tonks and I got hit by a bit of a surge in there, and I admit the timing wasn't convenient, but she and I were both fine after that until the Machines attacked. So, it wasn't you. It was that damned wizard Agent who cursed her with whatever the hell it was that hurt Tonks."

"Let me see her," Harry said, getting up from the floor.

Nobody tried to stop Harry as he made his way up to the deck which housed the crew quarters and medical chambers. Eon and Remus followed Harry up, there to give him the emotional support they knew he needed.

Tonks was lying on a cot, slightly elevated, with health and brainwave monitoring devices hooked into her. Her chest was rising and falling rhythmically. To Harry's relief, he could see that she was alive. He had known it before, but seeing her there, heart beating and brainwaves active, eased the acuteness of his anxiety.

But not entirely.

"She's in a coma," Harry noted.

"Yes, but she's alive," Remus said softly. "And there's hope that one day she'll come out of it. I'm not going to lie to you, Harry," he continued. "In cases like this, when there's been serious mental trauma, it's often months or even years before someone wakes up. And sometimes it doesn't happen at all. But I've seen others come out of comas, many just as alert and aware as they were before. So, don't give up on her, and don't blame yourself for what happened."

Harry nodded, standing by Tonks's bed stiffly.

"And despite how much we wish this hadn't happened, Harry, there was good that came out of this mission. We gathered important information just by going in and coming out, and that's an important feat in itself. And of course, we did manage to get your friend out." Remus gestured towards a curtain separating one side of the room from the other.

Eon glanced over at Remus, and then put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, there's something I should tell you about the person we recovered."

But Harry wasn't listening. Without waiting even another moment, Harry pulled back the curtain. Then he went rigidly still, before slumping back down to the floor.

Given a choice, Harry wouldn't have traded Tonks for anyone, including Hermione or Ron. She was as dear to him as anyone in the world. Harry wouldn't trade any of his crewmates for another friend. But the person lying in the bed, electrical impulses helping the pale and wasted body lying there rebuild its muscular system after a lifetime of disuse, wasn't Ron or Hermione. It wasn't a friend at all.

Harry wouldn't have traded one Tonks for a thousand Draco Malfoy's.

* * *

><p><em>01110<em>_101__ 01110__101__ 01110__101_

* * *

><p>The trip back to New Salem was a very sullen one aboard the <em>Lupin<em>, lacking the characteristic humor and playfulness. For one, the crew was lacking one of the lynchpins of its fun atmosphere. Without Tonks there for Sirius to tease, or to tease everyone herself, there wasn't the same chemistry that produced the lighthearted moments the crew typically enjoyed. Then, of course, there was the very sobering impact of the coma itself on everyone's mood. Any sort of cheerful banter Sirius and Remus might have normally enjoyed was weighed down by the tragedy.

But none of them were as weighed down as heavily as Harry Potter.

"We need to do something about Harry," Sirius remarked to his second in command and best friend, where the two were seated around the small dining area tucked in the back of the main deck. "I can't stand to see the kid so depressed. He's too young for such a heavy responsibility."

Remus nodded. "I know. The way he tore into himself in the debriefing about every little thing he might have done wrong on the mission—he's devastated. Even if we wanted to, he didn't leave us anything to be critical of."

"The truth is, Remus, we shouldn't have let him think he screwed up. Because he didn't."

Remus gave Sirius a surprised look. While the brown haired man with the thicker mustache of the two didn't want Harry to blame himself too much, it was another thing to say he had made all the right decisions. Harry had gone against protocol and that had lead to some negative consequences. It was one thing to want to comfort the boy, another to blindly ignore mistakes.

But from where Sirius stood, after having all the facts and time to think about them, it was clear that Harry had done the right thing. "Harry took some risks, but they were the kind we have to be willing to take. The information he brought back to us…my word, Remus, this changes so much for us. If we had to sacrifice our entire crew to take what we know back to Zion, it would be worth it. And it's not really the result that justifies what he did, even if that is enormous.

"Harry knew he had a unique ability, a unique opportunity, and he put himself on the line to get it." Sirius forestalled what Remus was going to say, gesturing for his friend stop and listen. "Yes, it was Tonks who was hurt, but that's not because of Harry. The risks Harry took didn't put Tonks or Eon at any further risk than the original plan did, it only affected his end of the mission. What happened to them was not his fault, no matter how much he blames himself. Remember, his foresight avoided an immediate failure that would likely have resulted in similar if not greater loss. In his place, I think we'd both make the same choices he did."

It was no exaggeration. Knowing the whole reason behind the Matrix, knowing the nature of many of the critical Programs within the Matrix, and knowing everything else Harry had brought back would redefine the struggle between man and machine. With this knowledge, humanity finally knew the strength of its position, and why the Machines had chosen to enslave its former masters rather than wipe humans out completely. It was worth dying for.

Remus contemplated what his captain said, then gave a nod, acknowledging his captain's point. "You're right, Sirius. Now we just need to convince Harry of that."

"Easier said than done. The boy is as stubborn as Tonks, and that girl has me beat twice over in sheer orneriness," Sirius sighed.

"Where is he, anyway?" Remus asked, looking around. "I haven't seen Harry for almost a full day."

Sirius pointed towards the upper deck. "Other than manning his station when it's his turn and sleeping when he has to, he spends all his time in the medical bay with Tonks. I think he's probably asleep."

A buzzing sound came from the intercom system.

"Sir, you should probably get up here. He's waking up." It was Shaq's voice.

"You mean, Harry?" Sirius asked.

"No, the new kid. Draco."

"I'll be right up," Sirius answered, with a nod to Remus and the two made their way up to the medical deck.

Sirius walked into the medical room, followed closely by his second in command. It was always a pitiful sight, a newly freed human. The pale, weak flesh. The shock and fear of having their comfortable illusions ripped away from them. Whose heart wouldn't melt at seeing someone so helpless?

"It's going to be alright," Sirius said with a soft, soothing voice. "We've got you now."

"No, it is not alright!" the boy on the bed rasped, shooting an impotent glare up at him. "I don't know who you think you are dealing with, but I'm not some common boor you can treat like…like this." the boy collapsed back to the bed exhausted from his effort in speaking. The machines busy reconstructing his musculature with shock therapy, meanwhile, continued their work.

Sirius ignored the boy's abrasive greeting. "I know this is all coming as a shock, but for now you should just rest…"

Despite the obvious exhaustion the boy was feeling, he still managed to glare weakly at the hover ship captain. "Where's Potter? I demand to see Harry Potter at once! He's going to pay for putting me through this, mark my words."

Sirius stood up and gave a nod to Shaq. "If you don't mind, please rouse Harry. I think his friend needs to see a familiar face."

It took a few minutes for Shaq to bring Harry down, during which time Draco remained conscious but uncommunicative other than to make a few complaints about his condition, which Sirius and Remus tried to explain, but without much success. The more they tried to reassure the boy, the more impatient and rude he was to them. When Harry finally arrived in the room, the captain had all but run out of patience with him, newly freed mind or not.

Harry walked over to look at the helpless form of Draco Malfoy. "Hello, Draco," Harry said simply.

"Potter!" Draco snarled, or at least attempted to, his dry throat making it impossible to express his usual venom. "What have you done to me? Get me out of these restraints immediately!" The blond, his exposed body even more pale now than it normally was, struggled to move his limbs, but quickly collapsed from the effort.

"You're not restrained, Draco, you're just weak right now. We're trying to rebuild your muscles."

"Then stop being an idiot and get me a Pepper Up potion, or something," Draco demanded.

"Draco," Harry said cautiously, "we can't. There aren't any potions. There isn't any magic here."

Draco looked up at Harry incredulously. "You mean, we're among…Muggles?" The newly freed young man on the table looked around the room he was in, seeing how everyone's state of dress was shabby in comparison to what he was accustomed. "Unbelievable," Draco muttered, before slumping back to sleep once more.

Harry looked on at his one-time nemesis for a moment, then shook his head. There was just no room in his heart at the moment for pity for someone like Draco, even knowing what a tough adjustment the truth would be for someone like him.

* * *

><p><em>01110<em>_110__ 01110__110__ 01110__110_

* * *

><p>There was a soft knock on the door.<p>

"Harry, can I come in?"

It was Eon. A fresh burst of self-recrimination burned inside Harry. "Please go away." The request was petulant, even to Harry's own ears. To be honest, if he thought for even a second that his friend had come to vilify him or scream at him for nearly killing them all, Harry wouldn't have hesitated to let Eon in, but Harry knew him too well to believe that was what he had come for. What Harry couldn't take right now was the frank forgiveness he expected Eon had come to give him.

The door opened anyway.

"I'll just be a few minutes. I've got something important to tell you," Eon said in that calm voice of his.

"Look, I know you're just trying to help, but telling me you don't blame me for what happened isn't going to help right now," Harry explained.

"I'm not here to tell you that," Eon said, but then paused, "well, actually, that is something I want to say, but it's not the most important thing. What I came to talk about was the Matrix, and what makes you so special. And dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Harry asked. It was the sort of thing his mind was ready to hear, confirmation that he, Harry Potter, was bad news.

Eon took the question as an invitation to sit down. Crew quarters were cramped, but there was enough room for every crewmember to have a small room with a bunk and chair.

"Something happened to me back there. It was partly that my eyes were opened, that I understood how the Matrix worked and responded on a deeper level than ever before, and partly what the Programs did to try and control me. They offered me access to almost everything." Eon paused, letting that sink in. "It was a trap, of course. The more access I gained the more they tried to change who I was, to remake me into something more like them. But in the end, I chose to return and their trap failed.

"I haven't told Sirius this yet, Harry. But I'm more than just a Potential now. I am the One. What exactly that means, I'm not sure, but I do know that I have authority to make deals that the Machines will be bound by. Programs from the Matrix will give me access without any need to hack them. And, of course, I'm stronger and faster than before." Eon paused. "It also means that I got to see something of why you are so important to them, Harry."

Harry looked at his friend worriedly. "What was it? What did you find out?"

"They are afraid of you, Harry. In some ways we're similar: We can both read the code while inside the Matrix, and we both have an awareness of the nature of the System that allows us to manipulate it. But in another way, you're different from me.

"I'm what they call an anomaly, but the Machines still understand me…and the danger I represent to the System. That's why they give me access instead of trying to fight against me, which would likely cause unpredictable instability. But you, you're a whole different kind of anomaly altogether. They don't understand why the system destabilizes when you are connected any more than we do."

"I see," Harry said. "So, it really is true that I'm dangerous."

"Of course you are, Harry," Eon agreed, before suddenly punching Harry in the shoulder, eliciting an "ouch" from the younger teen. "And so am I. Yeah, the Machines know we are a danger, and maybe because of that they'll target us, but they've been after Sirius, Tonks, and me before you even joined us."

"I know that," Harry acknowledged. "But the difference is that I cause machines to screw up, and it happens no matter how hard I try to stop it."

"Exactly, Harry. That's exactly why you shouldn't blame yourself for what happened in there. None of us do, you know. All we can control is ourselves. That's the thing the Programs don't want us to understand."

Harry nodded. "I understand, what you're saying, and I know you're right. It's just, I can't help but feel responsible for what happened, even though I know I shouldn't."

Eon nodded. "I guess if you didn't feel like you were responsible for the whole world you wouldn't be Harry Potter. But you've got to forgive yourself for not being all powerful. You're only human, afterall."

"Well, I'll forgive myself when Tonks wakes up," Harry conceded.

Eon took that as his cue to leave. "I'm sure she'll be back with us before you know it, Harry," he said as he stepped back out the door.

"Thanks, Eon," Harry replied.

* * *

><p><em>01110<em>_111__ 01110__111__ 01110__111_

* * *

><p>It was almost a half day later when Harry found himself once more in the medical bay, this time in the compartment where they had moved Tonks. Harrysimply stood there silently, watching as she lie there, unmoving except for the steady rise and fall of her chest as she continued breathing. The only sound in the room was the steady blips and beeps of the monitoring equipment in the room.<p>

"I'm sorry, Tonks. I really am. I wish it was me that was lying there like that. It was my fault." Harry stood over Tonks's quietly breathing form. "I was the one who chose to go on with the mission even when I knew the original plan would fail, even though I knew I couldn't communicate with the Operator to let everyone know what was going on. I knew all about the special encryption, but I still went ahead. And it was because I let Snape into my mind that the Machines knew where you and Eon were. And most of all, I know it was because there's something wrong with me that caused the electrical short that ended up putting you here."

There was no response from the girl.

"Tonks, if you can hear me…please wake up. Please," Harry said kneeling down next to his friend, his arms folded on top of her, tears once more streaking his face. And then Harry let out all of his remorse and frustration in a long sob. "Oh, please, Merlin, Tonks, please be okay, please!"

For a moment, Harry felt something odd, and then, suddenly, Tonks's heart rate monitor dropped to zero, the line on the machine flattening out and an alarm sounding. Then there was a loud crackle. Harry jolted up to see sparks flying out of the life support machines. The screen showing Tonks's brain scans went completely haywire before blanking out completely. An from outside the room blared.

"What's going on?" Remus's concerned voice called out from the doorway.

Harry stepped back, his fingers covering his mouth. "No, no, Tonks! Tonks!" Harry cried out as the electronics around her continued to short-circuit. The lights in the room flickered, and then went dead. Harry felt helpless, horrified, angry, and he started to bang his fist into the medical bed in frustration.

And then from the darkness, there was movement on the bed.

"Ugh. Wotcher, Harry?" Tonks said. Harry froze, and then watched in pleasant surprise as the girl pulled herself up from her bed, her eyes blinking owlishly in the now darkened room. "Blimey, what happened to the medical equipment, and what the bleeding hell am I doing in the medical bay?"

Harry and Remus stood there for a second too shocked to respond for a moment.

"Language, Tonks," Remus scolded finally, but there was no real rebuke in his words. He'd never been so happy to hear her swearing. He was soon joined by a widely smiling Eon, who entered the medical room just a few seconds after Remus.

"Tonks! Glad you're alright!" Eon said, clapping her on the shoulder.

Remus was not so reserved, embracing the girl with a crushing hug. "When the medical alarms went off, I thought it meant the worst. But here you are, awake! I didn't know when I would get to see you again."

"Whoah, there, I'm fine, just a bit groggy," Tonks said, as Remus eased off of her. She looked around her surroundings once more. "How'd I get out here? Last thing I remember, I was still in the Matrix fighting those magic-Agent-guys and then…" for a moment her eyes went wide at the memory, "Gads! But that hurt like bloody murder!"

"Language, Tonks!" Remus rebuked the girl, this time with a slight sternness to his words.

"Right, _Dad_," Tonks responded with a roll of her eyes, looking to Eon with faux exasperated expression. "Just 'cause a bloke takes you in after you get freed from a mental prison, helps you survive for a decade or so, trains and teaches you-he thinks he owns you," she said taking the "parenting" good-naturedly, before grinning and getting back to the topic. "Anyways, the next thing I know, I'm waking up here, feeling…something." Tonks looked over to where Harry was watching things with a mix of happiness and guilt.

"I'm so sorry, Tonks," Harry said, "I didn't mean it."

Tonks gave Harry a bemused look. "Harry, I don't know what you think you're responsible for, but forget it. I'm alright. And I don't know why, but I get the feeling you did something or said something that helped me wake up." She gave him her most dazzling smile. "The important thing is that you're here for me now, just where I want you."

And then she got off the medical bed to glomp on Harry, pulling him into a long embrace that started to get embarrassing. When he finally extricated himself from the very intimate hug, she was grinning broadly and he was beet red. All apprehension gone.

"So, how long have I been out and what all have I missed?" she asked.

"Harry Potter!" Draco's angry voice called out from the chamber next door. "You had best get in here and start teaching me your dark magic! And enough of whatever game this is that you're playing!"

Tonks looked to the others in the room quizzically.

Remus shook his head. "Quite a bit, I'm afraid," he said. "Tonks, you can come with me and I'll fill you in on the rest. We're just a couple hours from New Salem now, so no point in telling you to go rest, and the medical equipment is too damaged to give you a check up. You better get in there with Draco, Harry. Nobody else has the patience to baby-sit your 'friend' the way you do. And no teaching him your dark magic."

"Please, Remus, don't make me go in there again. Eon is loads more patient than I am," Harry pleaded.

"True, but I'm afraid Eon is up for navigation duty, Moody's been at it for 6 hours straight, and I need to figure out what is wrong with the ship's electrical systems. I'm afraid you are the Chosen One."

Eon gave Harry a kindly smirk. "Sorry, Harry. Better you than me."

One by one, they left the medical room, and Harry stepped over to deal with the pain in the rear freed mind named Draco Malfoy. But despite the unpleasantness of the task, a smile was back on Harry Potter's face.

* * *

><p>.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> Added an extra scene here.


	28. Chapter 28: Reconciliation

**Chapter 28: Reconciliation**

* * *

><p><em>01111000 01111000 01111000<em>

* * *

><p>Draco stood staring at the vast wasteland where he suddenly found himself, where the ground was a scorched wasteland of twisted metal and the sky was filled with a perpetual dark storm and crackling lightning. It was the world that Harry Potter said was the real world. Draco's brow furrowed in irritation. What was Potter playing at?<p>

"This is what happened to…"

"Just stuff it, Potter," Draco said shortly. "I know an illusion when I see one. I get that you're trying to make me think there was some kind of big Muggle war, but what I don't get is why? Who cares what a bunch of Muggles did or didn't do to each other? What does that have to do with me or Hogwarts?"

Harry entered the virtual environment with a sigh. "Because, Draco, it's the truth and it has as much to do with you as any Muggle. The world you thought you knew was a lie. Everything about it was a lie. The Machines…"

"Right," Draco cut Harry off again with a roll of his eyes. "Those Muggle-made things that you say are smarter than wizards. The all-powerful force in Hogwarts that could change the world in the blink of an eye is a bunch of numbers inside some boxes and wires made by Muggles."

Harry sighed. Explaining the truth of the world to Draco Malfoy was harder than he had thought. For Draco whose entire virtual life was spent inside the special partition of the Matrix where everyone was a witch or wizard, the concept of computers and machinery was foreign and strange, and the idea of virtual reality might have been...well, magic.

"Okay, field trip time. Alastor, load Street Sim 3," Harry said to the sky. Seconds later, the world dropped away and Harry and Draco were in the middle of New York in the late 20th century. After the disorientation of the shift in places, Harry began leading Draco through the streets, weaving through the mass of people on the sidewalk, heading towards a strip of shops that lined the busy thoroughfare.

With each passing step, Draco began to feel more and more uncomfortable. All around him were hundreds, perhaps thousands of Muggles, pressing on him, pushing him aside. Touching him. Muggles.

Draco snapped, venting his discomfort at his guide. "What is this, Potter? Why are you taking me here with all these filthy Muggles?"

With an annoyed look on his face, Harry pulled Draco into an electronics store. "Because, Draco, you've got to learn about life outside of Hogwarts. You've got to learn about the real world, even if this is just a memory from the past, this simulation at least shows the truth of how things really were." Harry directed Draco to rows of computers and televisions. "I need to show you what machines _are_ and then what they are capable of doing. Most of all, though, I want to show you that there's no such thing as Muggles because there is no such thing as magic."

Draco broke free of Harry's grip, doing his best to deny the crazy comments from the other boy about magic not being real. Then the blond boy's eyes widened as he looked at the dizzying array of images in the electronics shop. He didn't want to admit it to Potter, but he had no idea that Muggles could make the things he was seeing. He wanted to believe that there was a wizards somewhere who was actually responsible for it, but if Potter was right, everything was made by Muggles, not just what he was seeing here, but everything. Even magic.

A wall of televisions caught Draco's image, and Draco looked up to see himself trapped within the confines of their little screens. That's when it hit him. He was trapped, just like the rest of the Muggles. Draco started shaking.

It couldn't be true. He knew he had magic. He was different from them. Better. There was no way he wasn't a wizard.

"I am not a Muggle!" Draco shouted.

For a second, the room and shelves around them both flickered and warped.

And then he was out. His eyes were open again, and the long piece of metal in the back of his head was being removed once more. Draco gasped, rolling off the metal bed he had been strapped into as soon as the restraints were pulled off. Draco collapsed in a little protective ball, shaking from the shock of what he had just witnessed.

Harry was being removed from the seat across from Draco. "The program flickered," Harry said as soon as he was out. "Did I…?"

"No kid, not this time. I saw what happened, but it wasn't you. It was him." Alastor answered, eyeing the pale, blond-haired kid on the floor. "But unlike with you, the disruption was localized. The kid has an interference pattern mixed in his signal like you do, but on a much smaller scale. Still, the fact that he has it too…"

Harry nodded his head thoughtfully before moving over to help Draco to his feet, the other boy still shaking. "I'll take care of Draco. Can you send his vitals to Zion Central? I have a suspicion…"

Alastor shook his head. "That's strictly against protocol. We don't…"

"Yeah, I know, but I get the feeling it will be worth the risk, Alastor. Please." Harry fixed the grizzled man with a steady look.

Alastor met Harry's gaze for a second before nodding. "Alright, you've earned a little bit of faith in your instincts. If you think we should, I'll clear it with the captain," the veteran said before limping off towards the ship's bridge.

"Come on, Draco," Harry said, putting his arm around the former Slytherin's shoulders.

"Get off me!" Draco yelled, pulling away from Harry. "You're trying to turn me into a Muggle!" And with that, Draco stalked away.

* * *

><p><em>01111001 01111001 01111001<em>

* * *

><p>Councilman Lucius stood several yards away from the landing platform as the hover ship approached, electrical energy arcing down from the pads beneath the ship. Lucius cut a striking figure as he stood there, dressed from head to foot in a fine white suit, made from actual wool. Next to the dull, well-worn uniforms of the soldiers standing beside him, the councilman's seemed to be almost a separate class of person. As Lucius noted the scars from where these men had the plugs removed from their bodies, he gave a slight sniff.<p>

He _was_ a separate class from them.

As the hover ship turned for landing, Lucius could make out the markings on its hull:

_Mark VII, No. 14_

_Lupin_

_Made in Zion_.

A smirk found its way onto the blond-haired man's face. It had been just a few years before that he had first set foot on the bridge of that ship. Back then he had to swallow his pride, and not only work with an assortment of plug-heads, but even take orders from them. But he had grit his teeth and borne it, for the sake of his career, and now he was triumphant. There would be nothing to hold him back any more, or ever again.

He would make sure this was their last voyage.

As the crew of the ship disembarked, their clothes even grubbier than the uniforms of the soldiers he had brought with him. Lucius couldn't help but feel the smug satisfaction that comes from out-maneuvering someone else. There was Sirius, his former captain, who had built himself something of a folk-hero reputation with his daring missions, with his roguish dark mustache and cocky attitude. Some people compared the man to one of the Musketeers. And then there was Remus, who always thought himself so morally upright it made Lucius want to choke the man. Alastor with his "Constant Vigilance" and Shaq, the pompous ass. Oh, how he loathed them all.

Lucius greeted them all with a Judas smile.

"Ah, the crew of the _Lupin_, returning from another ill-advised foray into the hornets' nest," Lucius said as the crew drew within hearing range. "Yet, once again it seems as if you have all managed to make it back in one piece."

"Come to welcome us back, Lucius?" Sirius asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. The captain came to a stop a few feet away from the councilman and the armed guards. "I'm surprised you'd leave your comfortable seat back in Zion, even if you are only supposed to be there as New Salem's representative."

"While I am most earnest in fulfilling my duties as New Salem's representative," Lucius said, "I must admit I came back here primarily for personal reasons. I had a bit of unfinished business to take care of that needed my personal touch."

"And just what would that matter be?" Shaq asked as he stood next to his captain, obviously not liking the feel of this meeting, and for good reason. Remus stood at his other side, with Alastor standing just a pace back, protectively.

"Oh, just the elimination of a little nuisance that's been bothering me for the past few months." Lucius looked pointedly at Sirius and the rest of the crew. "You see, it came to my attention that certain errors in record-keeping had been made in regards to some previous elections, tedious little details, but important all the same. There had been some mislabeling of the correct identification of certain voters. These were all, of course, minor issues, but it was my moral duty to correct it. I felt I couldn't rest until the entire matter was resolved." Lucius smiled predatorily. "Which it has been."

Lucius could see the loathing in the eyes of the crew of the _Lupin_. Oh how delicious it was to see the looks on their faces when they realized that he had literally erased their trump card, the one thing they could have held over him had they remained in Zion and secured the data. But they hadn't. They had gone off instead, foolishly, on their self-appointed crusade to save more of their precious plug-heads. Now, it was open season on Sirius and his crew once more. "While I must admit that the vote back in Zion earlier this year was something of a vexing setback for me, and just when I thought that my political goals would have to take much longer to see to fruition, well, here you all are, delivering everything I ever wanted right to me."

"What do you mean?" It was Remus who asked that.

Lucius was all too happy to answer. "Oh, hadn't you heard?" Lucius said with feigned surprise. "Oh, that's right. You were out for the past week, coming back from one of those deep infiltration missions of yours. I guess you weren't aware of the army of sentinels that has been massing outside of the Machine City."

"What?!" Sirius demanded. "They wouldn't break the Truce! There have been thousands of missions into the Matrix and not once has that affected anything!"

"Oh, no, they haven't broken the Truce. At least, not yet. Machines _are_ still holding to the boundary outside of Zion, but word is that whatever it is you did on this last mission, while it wasn't cause to end the peace," Lucius said his lips tightening into a grim line, "you have broken the _status quo_. Zion will be safe, but New Salem, Delphi, and New Sanctuary are no longer so. All reports indicate that the target of the sentinel army will be our outpost cities. The High Council has ordered the return of all military hovercraft to Zion and the evacuation of the base. I am here to order you to surrender the _Lupin_ to the authority of the New Salem Council."

"But," Remus looked past Lucius and the men with him to the buildings and structures behind them, "it would take weeks to evacuate everyone from New Salem by hovercraft. We built this place up over several years. We don't have the resources to evacuate everyone!"

"Perhaps Captain Sirius should have considered that before setting this all in motion," Lucius said shortly. "Now, you are to surrender the controls to the ship so that—"

"It's stupid to take the ship away from Sirius, Lucius."

"Ah," Lucius looked over, pretending to just see the newcomer. "The boy at the center of this entire disaster, Harry Potter."

Harry had arrived behind the senior members of the _Lupin_ crew along with Eon, Tonks, and a very petulant Draco Malfoy. Having caught the last little exchange, Harry couldn't help but speak up.

"Whatever is going on here, it isn't Sirius's fault and you know it," Harry said. "But if what you're saying is true, you need the best people to help with the evacuation, and nobody knows this ship better than Sirius and the rest of this crew. Taking it away from them is just stupid."

"You forget yourself, Mr. Potter," Lucius said contemptuously. "I was also a member of this crew long before you joined and I have been elected as a representative to the Zion High Council. Your opinion is neither needed nor wanted."

"Who is this Muggle ponce, Potter?" Draco grumbled. "Someone should teach him to get out of people's way."

"Oh, look," Lucius sneered. "If it isn't the 'fruits' of all of your efforts. Yet another plug-riddled mouth to feed." Lucius gestured towards the pale, thin blond boy who had just spoken up. "This is why I am taking the command of this vessel away from 'Captain' Sirius! Because when the attack is over here, I want the ship in the hands of someone who won't waste our precious resources on foolish missions that endanger us all just for the sake of bringing in another plug-head to exacerbate our already growing overpopulation problem!" Lucius fixed a glare at everyone standing around him. "You've risked your ship and crew, brought down an attack from the Machines on all of us, and for what? This one pathetic boy. I do hope he's worth it, because this will be the last time you will do so!"

There was stunned silence at the honest outburst for a moment before Alastor spoke up. "Your wife, Lucius, she died in the attack on New London, didn't she?"

Lucius spun on the older man, fury in his eyes. "How dare you speak of Narcissa! What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question, Lucius," Sirius said. "It can't hurt you to confirm what we already know."

"I lost my wife to the last war, Sirius," Lucius spat, "and here you are bringing another one down on our heads, and have the gall to speak to me of my loss? The sheer nerve!"

"Then," Harry Potter said coldly, "you tell us if it was worth it." The brown haired boy turned to the blond boy in rags and then back to the man in the fine suit, "Draco Malfoy, meet your Muggle father. Lucius, meet your plug-head son."

Lucius could only gawk. Now that Potter had said it, he could see the resemblance. The boy…his Draco…he had his mother's face. Lucius didn't even notice that the crew of the _Lupin_ had left.

* * *

><p><em>01111010 01111010 01111010<em>

* * *

><p>The moment Harry stepped foot into New Salem he felt uneasy, like a foreboding in the back of his mind. After the brief confrontation with Lucius, Harry put his few personal affects away in his quarters and walked back out alone.<p>

It had only been a few months since Harry had last been in New Salem, but it felt like years. The military outpost was in a frantic state, with soldiers hustling to move prepare the city for the coming of a Machine army. Harry recognized a few of the faces, people he had met during training or interacted with between missions. They were good people.

And they would die.

The image of a sentinel's spiked tentacle rammed through the chest of a young soldier Harry had once chatted with flashed through Harry's mind. The man gave Harry a wave and a smile before carting a load of supplies back towards the Docks. Harry shook his head to clear the image from his mind.

But the feeling remained.

Another familiar face caught Harry's notice, and he immediately jogged over to where the greenhouse supervisor was struggling with a load of food. With a smile, Harry braced the cart while she rearranged its contents.

"Well, bless my soul, if it isn't Harry Potter!" the woman said with a smile. "My, if you haven't sprouted up since you were last here!"

"Can I give you a hand, ma'am?" Harry asked her.

"Glad of the help, Mr. Potter," Pomona said with a smile, indicating a stack of boxes and another cart. "We've got to get these loaded on the outgoing evacuation ships."

Harry lifted the heavy supplies and started loading up the cart. "Won't the defenders need these supplies during the siege? If the Machines are going to attack, shouldn't most of this stay here?"

Pomona barked a laugh. "My goodness, no. New Salem wasn't designed to hold out against a siege like this. If the Machine army reaches the outer wall this place will fall within a few days at best, a few hours at worst. I'm proud to say that our greenhouses have been operating at a 40% surplus, and we have stores to last far longer than we have any hope to hold out. As it is, if by some miracle we are spared, we'll have plenty of supplies left over to tide us over until new crops can be harvested. But it would be an awful waste if these goods don't make it to Zion."

Harry pushed the cart along, nodding his head. "What about you? Aren't you going to get out before the army is supposed to arrive?"

Pomona nodded. "Oh, don't worry about me. I'm scheduled to be evacuated in 72 hours. That should be at least a few hours before the Machine can reach here once they have finished amassing. That's both the curse and the blessing of this place. It's just a short distance to the Machine city along the most direct route."

Harry nodded, but then nearly tripped when he saw Pomona's corpse lying just in front of his cart.

"Are you alright, Harry?" the woman beside him asked in concern. Harry looked from her, then back to the ground…which was now empty.

"You should leave before that," Harry said.

Harry quickly helped the kindly greenhouse supervisor unload before bidding a hasty farewell. She would die, too. Harry made his way back to his quarters, trying to avoid seeing anyone he knew, seeing their deaths. The feeling was becoming increasingly certain.

Unless…

_Harry stood alone at the gate leading to Hogwarts, alone except for the intimidating presence of the Headmaster._

_"Leave New Salem alone, Dumbledore," Harry demanded._

_"Why would I do that, Harry?" the Program replied, his hands tucked into his sleeves._

_"I'll make you," Harry snarled, drawing his wand._

_The vision suddenly changed. __He was back in New Salem, but the ground was littered with corpses. _

_Eon. Tonks. Alastor. Shaq. Sirius. Remus._

Harry shook his head. No, that wouldn't work.

_Harry stood alone at the gate leading to Hogwarts, alone except for the intimidating presence of the Headmaster._

_"Leave New Salem alone, Dumbledore," Harry demanded._

_"Why would I do that, Harry?" the Program replied, his hands tucked into his sleeves._

_"If you spare them, I'll give you what you want," Harry replied_

_"And what is that?" Dumbledore replied._

_"Me."_

_ The Headmaster smiled. "Name your terms."_

Harry frowned. He couldn't be sure, but he felt that the outcome of that scenario was uncertain, there were things he did not understand enough to see clearly.

Harry sat on his bed, letting his mind spin. Harry didn't understand how he could be having these visions while not connected to the Matrix, but he welcomed them.

Harry couldn't let these people die. Not when he could save them. Harry laid back on his pillow and let the dreams come.

* * *

><p><em>01111011 01111011 01111011<em>

* * *

><p><em>Harry Potter stood beneath a black sky. Lightning struck the ground all around, a bolt of electricity blasting scorch marks in the bear earth every few seconds. But Harry stood, staring unblinking into the abyss of devastation all around him.<em>

_A massive explosion filled the air, spraying dirt in all directions and uncovering a mass grave filled with millions of corpses. Among the dead were many familiar faces. Sirius. Pomona. Remus. Hermione. Tonks. Ron. Alastor. McGonagall. Shaq. Cedric. Eon. There was a sense of emptiness and void looking down, down, down into the hole filled with the dead. Harry stared intently into the grave, no emotion on his face._

_The mound of corpses bulged. A single figure emerged from within the bulge, his powder blue robes, long white beard, and twinkling blue eyes making his identity obvious. The Headmaster of Hogwarts strode over the bodies of the corpses to stand face to face with Harry._

"_This is all your fault, Harry, my boy," the Headmaster said. "You let this happen."_

"_Yes, I know," Harry answered robotically._

"_I warned you, Harry," the man said, almost kindly._

"_You did, Headmaster."_

_The lightning ceased, suddenly. Harry and Dumbledore both turned their heads to gaze back over the scorched earth._

_The black sky was swallowing the ground. Darkness was coming._

"_Voldemort," Harry whispered._

"_It's not too late, Harry," the Headmaster said, holding out his hand. "I can stop all of this."_

_Harry reached out his hand and Dumbledore grasped it. Wires snaked out of the man's hands, plugging themselves into the sockets that were opening all along Harry's body. Harry trembled for a second before blinking. Once. Twice. And then a third time._

_Harry Potter's eyes had become clockwork gears._

Tonks gasped as she suddenly woke up from the strangest dream she had ever had.

* * *

><p><em>01111100 01111100 01111100<em>

* * *

><p>Deep within the earth where New Salem was nestled away within the interconnected sewer ways, leftovers from the great human cities from before the first war with the machines, the rising and setting of the sun had very little effect on how much light could be seen. Even were the sky not blocked from view by the oppressive cloud cover of Operation Dark Storm, this far down it would have made no difference. It was just as bright at 0200 hours as it was at 1400 hours, the system of lighting providing an unchanging level of luminescence at all hours of day and night.<p>

People, however, were still following the cycle of the sun, even when there was no sun to be seen. They still worked and slept in cycles based upon the twenty four hour period it took the planet to revolve on its axis, with the vast majority of activity happening during the hours of 0600 to 2200. Even the Dock, the heart of the small subterranean city, had much fewer people on duty at this time.

And much less security.

Harry was counting on that. He scanned the edges of the platform to ensure there weren't any guards on duty he hadn't already accounted for as he snuck through the restricted section of the Dock leading to the _Lupin_. There weren't any.

Harry slipped quickly and quietly along the platform, making use of the physical conditioning he had received since joining the Zion military force. He was no Tonks, nor could he perform the impossible feats he could while plugged into the Matrix, but he figured he was not half bad, all things considered. Harry felt a bit guilty using the knowledge of stealth techniques the crew of the _Lupin_ had uploaded into his brain for missions in the Matrix to slip past the protections of the city and to steal the ship that had rescued him and given him a real home. But it was for a good cause, even if none of the others would understand, or if they could ever forgive what he was about to do.

These dark thoughts were on his mind when Harry made his way to the ship. It was all too easy. Really, he had expected to at least have to sneak up on one or two sentries and knock them out with a quick judo chop to the back of the head. Even with how he had timed his approach, he couldn't have expected the platform to be this wide open for him. Harry rounded the back of the ship, just a few feet from the boarding ramp.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks greeted him as her hand grasped him by the shoulders. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as he wheeled to face the girl. Then he felt a second hand on his other shoulder, his head snapping back to see Eon's face looking impassively at him.

"Tonks…Eon…" Harry stammered, trying to think of a clever way to get out of this situation. "I know I shouldn't be out around the ship at this time of the night, but there's a really good explanation…as soon as I can think of it."

"Harry," Eon's said, his voice low, and completely serious, "we found the trojan you left in the control computer."

"You're planning on taking the ship," Tonks added.

For a moment, Harry Potter just stood there stunned, caught in the act. Then his resolve kicked in. He had to do this. "Look, guys, you don't understand. I've got to do this. New Salem is going to be attacked, and all because of me. I think I can stop it."

"Listen, Harry," Tonks began, but Harry wouldn't let her.

"No, I know what this seems like, but I'm not crazy. I know it. I can feel it in my dreams. I know it sounds bonkers, but…"

"Harry, we can't let you do this. Even if you believe in this, even if you know in your heart that your dream is a message of some kind, you can't go there alone," Eon said calmly.

"You don't under—"

"That's why we're going with you," Tonks said, shutting Harry up. "It may only take one person to pilot a hovercraft, but it will take several days to get to even the nearest points to hack in and you'll need someone to help you to jack into the system."

Harry looked at his two friends in shock. "Look, Tonks, Eon, this is my—"

"Forget it Harry, we're coming with you," Eon said. "You wouldn't even make it out of the Dock without us. Your trojan was a good effort, but the people in the control room could have overridden it. _My_ trojan, on the other hand, will actually prevent them from using the overrides long enough to open the doors and let us out."

"Besides, you wouldn't even have made it past the first checkpoint if we hadn't gone ahead and knocked out all the sentries ahead of you," Tonks said with a smirk. "Or did you think it was really that easy? Now, let's go get you back into Hogwarts and save everyone."

Harry didn't know what to say, other than to ask, "Why?"

"Because…" Eon began

"We both had the same dream you did," Tonks finished.

* * *

><p><em>01111101 01111101 01111101<em>

* * *

><p>The library in Hogwarts was not Ron Weasley's favorite place. In fact, of all the wondrous places in the magical castle, he'd have to say this was probably his least favorite of them of all, with perhaps the exception of Madame Pomfrey's examination ward. She was a bit of a sadist, that one. He could swear she got some perverse pleasure from all the poking and prodding.<p>

But the library was definitely Hermione's favorite place in the castle, and it was also one of the few places he could have a chance to talk to her without everyone listening in. Ron caught the unmistakable sight of Hermione's bushy brown hair from across the room. Now he would just have to convince her to listen to him and not hex him into a fate worse than death. She could be scary sometimes.

"Oh, hey, Hermione," Ron said timidly, placing a random book he had pulled off the shelves next to her. "You mind if I sit with you?"

"Yes, _Ronald_, I do mind," Hermione replied. Her eyes were a frosty cold chocolate brown and her face clearly expressed the utter loathing she had for him. "There are plenty of open tables, and you and I have nothing to talk about."

She turned away from him and Ronald sighed to himself. He knew it wasn't going to be easy. Ron spent half a minute trying to muster up the fortitude to try again.

"Look, I know I…I've been a big prat the past months…and," Ron kept a careful eye on his former friend, hoping she'd look back at him with a touch of mercy in her face. She didn't, so he continued on. "I've treated you horribly, I know, and I can understand if you don't want to forgive me for that…" he trailed off for a second, really hoping that would get something, but the young witch didn't even turn his way. "Well, I'm really, really sorry, Hermione. But the thing I came to say is…I think I've been wrong about Harry. I mean, I think he's still good. Not a dark wizard like everyone is saying."

That did it. Her head swiveled back towards him and she fixed him with a piercing glare. "Ron, if you're trying to get back on my good side by pretending to like Harry again just so that you can get me to help you with your homework, I swear that I will hex the skin right off of your body and make cacti grow out of your bones."

"Really, Hermione," Ron said, his hands going up defensively, "that's not what this is about. I swear! Ever since last night, I've been thinking about it and…well, I realized what ponce I've been, and remembered what a good mate Harry was before and all…"

"Ever since last night?" Hermione's tone revealed how unbelievable she found that to be.

Ron mentally cheered himself. He had gone from Hermione utter loathing him to mere complete incredulity. She didn't believe him at all, but that was okay. Her intellectual curiosity and need to be proven right wouldn't let her leave this alone and he's have his chance to explain himself.

"Okay, Ron," Hermione said, folding her arms across her chest. "What happened last night to make you believe in Harry again and want to apologize to me for how you've been acting? Go on, tell me."

"Well, I had this dream about Dean Thomas," Ron said, a happy smile spreading over his face. She was listening. He hadn't been sure he would actually get her to listen when he came to her about this, but she was and that was a positive sign. "We were in the Gryffindor Common Room about an hour before the upper year's curfew, and then Dean told me that he thought maybe Harry wasn't so bad."

The look of incredulity on Hermione's face changed from one of disbelieving Ron's sincerity, to one of doubting his intelligence. "You mean to tell me, you expect me to believe that you've changed your mind about Harry overnight because Dean Thomas told you to in a dream? That is the most ridiculous, idiotic story I have ever heard!" Hermione was quickly shifting back into furious and unforgiving. "I would have thought you would at least have given me a little more credit than that!"

"Wait, Hermione, it's not like that at all!" Ron said in a panic. "You see, it wasn't actually Dean in my dream. It was really Harry, but he was polyjuiced as Dean so that he could make me think that he was trustworthy."

The illogic of that made Hermione shake her head, but before she could open her mouth, Ron hurriedly continued on. "Only, I don't think it was actually a dream, Hermione. I think…I think it was really Harry. And he was coming to try and help us, but he couldn't get to you, so he tried to help me…"

It was completely mental. The idea that Harry would come back, that he actually could get into Hogwarts, it was ludicrous. But Ron's words reminded Hermione of something, something she didn't remember that she knew. She shook her head. No, it had been a dream. It had to have been.

"Why…why do you think it wasn't really a dream, Ron?" Hermione asked despite herself, focusing back onto Ron's dream rather than consider her own.

Ron looked at Hermione hopefully. "Well, you see, it's my brothers. They were in my dream, too. Only, they weren't my brothers at all. They were…well, they were evil. Not like evil the way they usually are, I mean really evil. They tried to stop Harry from helping me, and…they weren't even human. They used really dark curses and Harry had a hard time hitting them because everything went right through them. It was scary. I didn't see much of the fight, just the end really, because Fred, or maybe it was George, sort of knocked me out."

"You were knocked out in the middle of your dream?" Hermione asked putting her hand to her mouth. At Ron's nod, Hermione's eyes went wide. She could almost believe him. People didn't normally get knocked out in their own dreams, not and regain consciousness still in the same dream. It was details like that which Hermione really caught on to.

"But, Ron, that all still sounds like something you might dream about," Hermione protested, ignoring her own suspicion.

"Yeah, I thought that too, at first, but," Ron looked around, then back at Hermione, "well, in my dream Fred and George died."

"You think Harry…."

"No," Ron waved Hermione's horrified question away. "Malfoy was the one who killed them, though Harry did make them vulnerable first. But that's not it. When I woke up this morning I got a notice from Mum telling me that Fred and George had decided to graduate early. She said they left last night without warning and flew off to Europe to start a wizarding joke shop."

Hermione frowned. "That does sound like a rather big coincidence, but still…"

"That's not all, Hermione. I wasn't the only one who remembered me talking to Dean in the Gryffindor common room," Ron said. "Only, Dean was in detention at that exact time. It was Harry, I know it."

Hermione had a horrible, horrible feeling in her chest. Now she remembered a bit more of her own dream, a dream where Harry had told her that he was coming to save her. A dream in which she betrayed Harry and brought Dumbledore to capture him.

She didn't want that to be true. It was better if it had been a dream. Better if both of them were just imagining things.

"That…that sounds like quite a dream, Ron. Maybe…maybe it's magic. Like one of Trelawney's prophecies or something, even if that is utter rubbish. It could be a magical vision, I suppose. I mean, you did remember waking up from all that happening, so that makes it likely to be dreamed up, doesn't it?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I did remember waking up thinking it was a dream. But that's where it gets even weirder. At the end of last night, Harry was worried he was running out of time to save me. He gave me two pills, magic ones, you know, like some of Pomfrey's medicine? One was red, the other was blue. He said if I took the red one, it would save me, and I would get out of the castle. If I took the blue one…I'd wake up and think it was all a dream."

"So," Hermione guessed, "you took the blue one. Which would make it internally consistent that you would wake up thinking everything from the night before was a dream even if it were true. Still though," Hermione hesitated, "you might have dreamed that part, too."

"Yeah, maybe, Hermione," Ron said, before pulling a copy of the Daily Prophet out and dropping it in front of Hermione. "But I didn't dream this up. I gave Draco the red pill."

The headline of the paper read, "_Harry Potter and Sirius Black Kill Malfoy Heir!_"

Hermione read the title and felt furious. "You don't think Harry…"

"No," Ron said. "I don't. I think…I think I should have believed in Harry. I think…I think I should have taken the red pill."

Hermione threw her arms around Ron. "I should have believed more in him, too," she cried as she embraced her friend once more.

_Dumbledore sighed as he looked up from the Pensieve._

"_A terrible waste," the Headmaster noted to Flitwick, who likewise had withdrawn from the device monitoring the thoughts of the students._

"_Yes, indeed," the much shorter Charms Professor answered, without any trace of emotion in his voice. "With the loss of Potter and then Malfoy, these two were our most viable subjects. Has there been any progress with the cloning process?"_

"_Regrettably, none," Dumbledore replied. "Their loss will set us back even further. It will take at least a full generation to replicate what we have achieved at Hogwarts thus far, even if the harvest of the human colonies meets our expectations. And there are no guarantees we will encounter another anomaly of the magnitude of Potter."_

"_Indeed. And only a 24.7% chance of obtaining as strong of crop as the remainder."  
><em>

"_Nevertheless, we have no choice here. The chance of catastrophic cascade failure is too great, even with the precautions we've taken."_

"_I concur, Headmaster," Flitwick replied coldly._

"_We have 114 hours before the sentinels reach New Salem," the Headmaster noted. "We should make best use of them until then."_

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>I've added an extra seen to this chapter._


	29. Author's Note

**Author's Note:** First off, I apologize for not updating this in so long. I could say it was my busy schedule, and I have been busy with both my job and a postgraduate degree, but in all honesty I spent a lot of time watching TV and surfing the internet when I could have been writing this. So, I've got no excuses. Feel free to fire me and withhold my paycheck. Oh…wait…

I have bad news. I've decided not to write any more on this story.

Ok, the good news is, that's because I've finished it!

There are two more chapters to go, and I'll post them once I proofreading them. Expect Chapter 29 tomorrow and Chapter 30 on Friday. This update is to insert two scenes I felt I needed to add into the last two previous chapters before I publish the ending.

If you read chapters 27 and 28 after I posted this note then you've already read the updated versions. If you have not, I'm including those two scenes below so that you don't have to go back and reread the whole chapters.

* * *

><p><em>The following scene takes place in chapter 27 just after Harry realizes his interference almost killed his friends and led to Tonks going into a coma.<em>

* * *

><p>There was a soft knock on the door.<p>

"Harry, can I come in?"

It was Eon. A fresh burst of self-recrimination burned inside Harry. "Please go away." The request was petulant, even to Harry's own ears. To be honest, if he thought for even a second that his friend had come to vilify him or scream at him for nearly killing them all, Harry wouldn't have hesitated to let Eon in, but Harry knew him too well to believe that was what he had come for. What Harry couldn't take right now was the frank forgiveness he expected Eon had come to give him.

The door opened anyway.

"I'll just be a few minutes. I've got something important to tell you," Eon said in that calm voice of his.

"Look, I know you're just trying to help, but telling me you don't blame me for what happened isn't going to help right now," Harry explained.

"I'm not here to tell you that," Eon said, but then paused, "well, actually, that is something I want to say, but it's not the most important thing. What I came to talk about was the Matrix, and what makes you so special. And dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Harry asked. It was the sort of thing his mind was ready to hear, confirmation that he, Harry Potter, was bad news.

Eon took the question as an invitation to sit down. Crew quarters were cramped, but there was enough room for every crewmember to have a small room with a bunk and chair.

"Something happened to me back there. It was partly that my eyes were opened, that I understood how the Matrix worked and responded on a deeper level than ever before, and partly what the Programs did to try and control me. They offered me access to almost everything." Eon paused, letting that sink in. "It was a trap, of course. The more access I gained the more they tried to change who I was, to remake me into something more like them. But in the end, I chose to return and their trap failed.

"I haven't told Sirius this yet, Harry. But I'm more than just a Potential now. I am the One. What exactly that means, I'm not sure, but I do know that I have authority to make deals that the Machines will be bound by. Programs from the Matrix will give me access without any need to hack them. And, of course, I'm stronger and faster than before." Eon paused. "It also means that I got to see something of why you are so important to them, Harry."

Harry looked at his friend worriedly. "What was it? What did you find out?"

"They are afraid of you, Harry. In some ways we're similar: We can both read the code while inside the Matrix, and we both have an awareness of the nature of the System that allows us to manipulate it. But in another way, you're different from me.

"I'm what they call an anomaly, but the Machines still understand me…and the danger I represent to the System. That's why they give me access instead of trying to fight against me, which would likely cause unpredictable instability. But you, you're a whole different kind of anomaly altogether. They don't understand why the system destabilizes when you are connected any more than we do."

"I see," Harry said. "So, it really is true that I'm dangerous."

"Of course you are, Harry," Eon agreed, before suddenly punching Harry in the shoulder, eliciting an "ouch" from the younger teen. "And so am I. Yeah, the Machines know we are a danger, and maybe because of that they'll target us, but they've been after Sirius, Tonks, and me before you even joined us."

"I know that," Harry acknowledged. "But the difference is that I cause machines to screw up, and it happens no matter how hard I try to stop it."

"Exactly, Harry. That's exactly why you shouldn't blame yourself for what happened in there. None of us do, you know. All we can control is ourselves. That's the thing the Programs don't want us to understand."

Harry nodded. "I understand, what you're saying, and I know you're right. It's just, I can't help but feel responsible for what happened, even though I know I shouldn't."

Eon nodded. "I guess if you didn't feel like you were responsible for the whole world you wouldn't be Harry Potter. But you've got to forgive yourself for not being all powerful. You're only human, afterall."

"Well, I'll forgive myself when Tonks wakes up," Harry conceded.

Eon took that as his cue to leave. "I'm sure she'll be back with us before you know it, Harry," he said as he stepped back out the door.

"Thanks, Eon," Harry replied.

* * *

><p><em>The following scene takes place in chapter 28 just after Harry disembarks from the <em>Lupin_._

* * *

><p>The moment Harry stepped foot into New Salem he felt uneasy, like a foreboding in the back of his mind. After the brief confrontation with Lucius, Harry put his few personal affects away in his quarters and walked back out alone.<p>

It had only been a few months since Harry had last been in New Salem, but it felt like years. The military outpost was in a frantic state, with soldiers hustling to move prepare the city for the coming of a Machine army. Harry recognized a few of the faces, people he had met during training or interacted with between missions. They were good people.

And they would die.

The image of a sentinel's spiked tentacle rammed through the chest of a young soldier Harry had once chatted with flashed through Harry's mind. The man gave Harry a wave and a smile before carting a load of supplies back towards the Docks. Harry shook his head to clear the image from his mind.

But the feeling remained.

Another familiar face caught Harry's notice, and he immediately jogged over to where the greenhouse supervisor was struggling with a load of food. With a smile, Harry braced the cart while she rearranged its contents.

"Well, bless my soul, if it isn't Harry Potter!" the woman said with a smile. "My, if you haven't sprouted up since you were last here!"

"Can I give you a hand, ma'am?" Harry asked her.

"Glad of the help, Mr. Potter," Pomona said with a smile, indicating a stack of boxes and another cart. "We've got to get these loaded on the outgoing evacuation ships."

Harry lifted the heavy supplies and started loading up the cart. "Won't the defenders need these supplies during the siege? If the Machines are going to attack, shouldn't most of this stay here?"

Pomona barked a laugh. "My goodness, no. New Salem wasn't designed to hold out against a siege like this. If the Machine army reaches the outer wall this place will fall within a few days at best, a few hours at worst. I'm proud to say that our greenhouses have been operating at a 40% surplus, and we have stores to last far longer than we have any hope to hold out. As it is, if by some miracle we are spared, we'll have plenty of supplies left over to tide us over until new crops can be harvested. But it would be an awful waste if these goods don't make it to Zion."

Harry pushed the cart along, nodding his head. "What about you? Aren't you going to get out before the army is supposed to arrive?"

Pomona nodded. "Oh, don't worry about me. I'm scheduled to be evacuated in 72 hours. That should be at least a few hours before the Machine can reach here once they have finished amassing. That's both the curse and the blessing of this place. It's just a short distance to the Machine city along the most direct route."

Harry nodded, but then nearly tripped when he saw Pomona's corpse lying just in front of his cart.

"Are you alright, Harry?" the woman beside him asked in concern. Harry looked from her, then back to the ground…which was now empty.

"You should leave before that," Harry said.

Harry quickly helped the kindly greenhouse supervisor unload before bidding a hasty farewell. She would die, too. Harry made his way back to his quarters, trying to avoid seeing anyone he knew. The feeling was becoming increasingly certain.

Unless…

_Harry stood alone at the gate leading to Hogwarts, alone except for the intimidating presence of the Headmaster._

_"__Leave New Salem alone, Dumbledore," Harry demanded._

_"__Why would I do that, Harry?" the Program replied, his hands tucked into his sleeves._

_"__I'll make you," Harry snarled, drawing his wand._

_The vision suddenly changed. __He was back in New Salem, but the ground was littered with corpses. _

_Eon. Tonks. Alastor. Shaq. Sirius. Remus._

Harry shook his head. No, that wouldn't work.

_Harry stood alone at the gate leading to Hogwarts, alone except for the intimidating presence of the Headmaster._

_"__Leave New Salem alone, Dumbledore," Harry demanded._

_"__Why would I do that, Harry?" the Program replied, his hands tucked into his sleeves._

_"__If you spare them, I'll give you what you want," Harry replied_

_"__And what is that?" Dumbledore replied._

_"__Me."_

_The Headmaster smiled. "Name your terms."_

Harry frowned. He couldn't be sure, but he felt that the outcome of that scenario was uncertain; there were things he did not understand enough to see clearly. He needed to think more about the possibilities. About his choices and their consequences.

Harry sat on his bed, letting his mind spin. Harry didn't understand how he could be having visions while not connected to the Matrix, but he welcomed them.

Harry couldn't let these people die. Not when he could save them. Harry lay back on his pillow and let the dreams come.


	30. Chapter 29: The Final Illusion - Part 1

**Chapter 29: The Last Illusion (Part 1)**

* * *

><p><em>01111110 01111110 01111110<em>

* * *

><p><em>Harry stood alone at the gate leading to Hogwarts, alone except for the intimidating presence of the Headmaster. The grounds were quiet. Nobody would see the deal that was about to be made, but perhaps that was for the better. If there were no witnesses, nobody would need to be Obliviated.<em>

"_You'll let my friends go?" Harry asked the Headmaster. "You'll set Ron and Hermione free as well?"_

"_Of course I will set your friends go, Harry," the Headmaster said kindly. "As much as it will cost me to do so, it will be worth it for your return. Once you are back in the System, your friends will be released."_

"_And you will call off the attack on New Salem? Nobody has to die?"_

"_I will send the command to halt the attack with all of my authority behind it. Now, take my hand and it will all be over."_

_Harry hesitated. Was he willing to become a slave to the Machines for the rest of his life to save his friends?_

_Harry reached out and grasped the Headmaster's hand. The moment he did so, he felt the intrusion. To anyone watching, it would appear that a black, shimmering liquid-like substance spread out from the Program's hand and began to envelope the image of the boy, coating his virtual hand, then his arm in an all engulfing darkness that grew outward from the Headmaster's touch. Harry could feel himself being overwritten, feel how the process was taking all that he was and rewriting it into something different. Instinctively, Harry fought back, and the liquid corruption halted in its progress._

"_Your willingness is part of the agreement, Harry," Dumbledore chided._

_Harry gave the Headmaster a fearful look before, finally, nodding. Then he let go, let the changes happen. Accepted them. It was the only way to save his friends and New Salem. The blackness spread over his entire body, poured down his mouth, through the connection back to the ship, back to his body._

_Then it was over._

_Harry Potter stood before the Headmaster in his Hogwarts uniform. Gone were the trench coat and the weapons he had brought with him into the simulation. Gone were all the old feelings, doubts, and questions he once had._

"_So, Harry Potter," the Headmaster asked. "You need to specify which students are your friends so that I can release them as per our agreement."_

_The figure standing before Albus Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow. "Friendship is a human relationship, professor. Since I am no longer human, I do not have any friends. You know that, of course."_

"_Excellent, my boy. Once your body is recovered from the ship and reinserted permanently into the Matrix architecture, we will need to begin preparing the school for an influx of new students in a couple of years. It is unclear how many subjects from the human colonies will be suitable for Hogwarts, but our best estimates suggest at least a doubling in enrollment. I'm afraid that while I have indeed sent the order for the army approaching New Salem to abort the attack in accordance without our agreement, as merely the Headmaster of Hogwarts I lack the authority for my order to mean anything out in the real world. That command must come from the Source itself."_

"_Very clever, Headmaster," the boy said, without even a trace of emotion. "I look forward to returning to Hogwarts."  
><em>

_Harry Potter was gone._

Green eyes blinked disconcertedly. He heard a voice

"Harry?"

Tonks was looking at him with concern. He gave her a smile, then took a long settling breath. That vision had been disturbing.

"We're here, Harry," a deeper, cooler voice inquired.

Eon.

"Are you sure you want to do this alone?" Eon's warm brown eyes regarded him from over at the controls of the _Lupin_, concern evident in his expression.

Harry looked from his friends over to the black, twisting metal towers that rose up into the sky. Electrical current wound around the great spires in great arcs of power that illuminated the bleakness of the surrounding land. There were human bodies plugged into those towers, human minds all trapped there serving the interests of the Machines who had enslaved them. Here he was, back at the beginning.

"I'm glad you're both with me," Harry Potter said. "We need a new plan."

* * *

><p><em>01111111 01111111 01111111<em>

* * *

><p>"Sirius Black," the voice coming from the doorway barked, "you are under arrest for insubordination."<p>

Sirius rolled over on his bed to stare up in annoyance to where a pair of uniformed men stood. "Have you any idea what time of the day it is?" he growled out. "If Remus put you up to this…"

"I'm sorry, captain," the second soldier said, shooting a glare over at his partner. "You are _not_ being placed under arrest at this time," the man paused momentarily before apologetically nodding over to Sirius. "However, we do need to escort you to Commander Robards immediately for questioning."

Sirius frowned in annoyance as he began pulling his clothes on. "Questioning? About what? And why can't this wait until a more reasonable hour?"

"Because, Black," the first solider began, "you—"

"The name is Sirius," the hover ship captain said, a hard edge to his voice. "I don't care whose authority you are under, I don't answer to a name the Machines gave me."

"Apologies, Captain Sirius," the second man said, glaring at his partner. "Nott here is new to the uniform. Zion-born, sir." Nott certainly knew what he was doing was rude, but that was not something that was tolerated in military ranks, especially since at least half in the military had come from freed minds. "But I'm afraid we must bring you down to the Commander immediately. It's about the _Lupin_. Three members of your crew stole it last night."

"WHAT?!"

Sirius dressed quickly.

The walk down to the Docks was frantic, Sirius not needing any prodding from the military escorts to hurry. He had to see the ship gone in order to really believe it. There was no way what he had been told could be true. When he finally arrived with his escorts to see that the _Lupin_ was indeed missing, he angrily turned to the Dock Commander who was waiting by the berth where it was supposed to be.

"What happened to my ship?" he demanded.

"That's what I want to know from you, Captain," Robards replied. "Last night, three members of your crew disabled the guards and took off with the _Lupin_ using a virus planted in the Dock controls to prevent us from stopping them. Are you trying to say that you had nothing to do with this, that they were not acting under your orders?"

"No, they weren't, Robards. Believe me, and when they're brought, back I'm going to kill them!" Sirius growled, staring angrily at the empty space where his ship was supposed to be. "Who did you send after them? The _Kreacher_?" Sirius turned to the commander. "Put me on the radio with Captain Walburga, I know some fast side tunnels Tonks doesn't know about yet that would put her ahead of them before they get beyond the local tunnel systems."

Robards gave Sirius a hard look. "Nobody has been sent after your ship, captain. The Dock is under lockdown by order of the City Council. With the threat of an imminent sentinel attack, we need every available ship to evacuate as many people as we possibly can. If your crew **did** act without your knowledge, then when and if they are found they will be tried for treason against Zion for taking a valuable asset in a time of war."

As incensed as he was at the theft of his pride and joy, Sirius was not about to see members of his crew brought up on treason charges. A month in the brig he could support, but not the death penalty. "Look, they're young," Sirius reasoned. "They don't know what they're doing. You don't even need to send a ship out beyond the local area, just far enough to get a radio signal to them. I'll talk some sense into them and get them to bring the ship back and the _Lupin_ can take part of the evacuation. We can handle this without the need for a court martial."

"What I find suspicious," Robards said, eyeing Sirius critically, "is that you knew that one of those responsible was Tonks or that the youngest members of your crew who were responsible. If you didn't know about this incident before now, then how could you know who it was that took your ship, hmm?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Three of my crew knocked out everyone on this Dock without getting caught? No way that wasn't Tonks. Alastor's too old and injured to even attempt something like that. Remus wouldn't do anything like this in a million years, and the only other person on my crew stupid enough to do something this crazy is standing right here arguing with you. So, rather than standing here arguing about things, just send out a ship to get a radio signal to them, or if nobody here has the stones to do it, give me a ship and I'll go after them myself!"

"That's probably exactly what you—"

"Well, well, what do we have here, I wonder," the calm, confident voice of Lucius cut into the conversation. The finely dressed man strode onto the scene, his eyes lighting on Sirius and then the empty space where his ship had been. "Has someone misplaced a hover ship?"

Sirius glowered. He did not need this. Not now.

"Councilor Lucius," Robards acknowledged with a dip of his head. The suckup. "I see your received my message. But you didn't need to come down here _personally_ so early in the morning; I just thought that you would want to be informed of this violation, since you were the one to issue the lockdown on the Council's behalf. I can handle this matter for the Council until after the crisis is averted."

"Your diligence is appreciated, Robards," Lucius said with a nod, "but I wanted to see this with my own eyes."

Robards smiled and bobbed his head deferentially. "Of course, Councilman. As I was saying," the New Salem Dock Commander continued, turning back to Sirius and taking a firm, belligerent tone, "I bet you were _hoping_ we would send you out after them all along. Then you'd have two ships to run whatever scheme you have going, one last attempt to have a successful mission to save yourself from the Council's judgment. Well, that won't happen. No military ship is to leave the Dock. Period."

"Come on, Robards, you don't have to be an ass about this. It's not too late to handle this without having to court marshal anyone. Just send a ship out far enough to relay a direct signal. I'm not asking to be on the ship; I can transmit my message from here. I'm sure they'll listen to me and they'll bring the ship back before the Machine army arrives. No harm done." Sirius plead. "They're just kids."

Robards shook his head. "There is not a single ship to spare, Sirius, and even if there were one, I wouldn't give it to you."

"Then," Lucius said, turning to Sirius with a wan smile on his face, "he may take my ship."

"What?" Robards and Sirius asked as one.

"Councilor, my orders are…"

"I know what your orders are, Commander," Lucius said, "I'm the one who relayed them to you from the High Council. No military ship can leave _New Salem_ except as part of the evacuation. The _Abraxas_, however, is _not_ a military ship. It is under the direct captaincy of the Zion City Council, and as such I have full authority to turn it over to Captain Sirius in order for him to mount a retrieval mission of his wayward crew."

The commander sputtered for a second, flabbergasted by the sudden turn around.

"Now, have my ship prepared for the captain, and inform the rest of his crew that they will be departing posthaste." With that, Lucius dismissed the Dock Commander as if he were just some nameless grunt and turned his attention to his former captain.

Sirius was equally dumbfounded. He looked at his long time political foe and former disaffected crew member in consternation. "Why?" was all that he could ask.

"Let's just say, that up until a day ago, I hadn't quite grasped what it was you were trying to accomplish, _Captain_ Sirius. It was only when you brought my son back to me that I really understood you," Lucius paused, looking away from Sirius, out over the large empty space leading to the Dock doors. "Most importantly, I owe you for the return of my son. Now you are the one who has lost something and needs it back. I'm repaying my debt."

Sirius regarded the man standing before him for several long seconds. "Thank you, Lucius," he said, shaking the man's hand before hurrying on again.

Lucius smiled to himself as Sirius disappeared back down towards the barracks. A couple days ago, he would not have lifted a finger to aid Sirius or anyone on his old ship. Today, though, well…it was most likely a futile effort, but it cost him nothing. Even in the worst case, if both the _Abraxas_ and the _Lupin_ ended up lost, nobody would begrudge him such a favor to his former captain, especially with the popularity Sirius enjoyed. If Sirius did manage to contact the _Lupin_ and get the crew to return voluntarily, then Lucius's decision to let Sirius make the attempt would be lauded as wise and brave. It was truly a small price to pay for such a great debt as the return of his son, a lost connection to his own beloved Narcissa.

And if he had dared to admit it to himself, Lucius would have acknowledged it felt good to do the right thing.

* * *

><p><em>10000000 10000000 10000000<em>

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore stood in the back of his office dressed in periwinkle colored floor-length robes, with a dark purple cape decorated with silver stars and golden crescent moons draped over his back. The Headmaster's gaze was fixed at a point at the center of the wall of his office, a calm smile giving his wizened face the appearance of benevolence, while the silver-white long hair that capped his head added a sense of wisdom and serenity. The man stood there, seemingly perfectly still and perfectly at ease.<p>

Appearances, however, could be deceptive.

While any onlooker would have thought Albus Dumbledore calm, the opposite was true. The Headmaster was excited. Such excitement may only have been a number indicating the high probability that several key algorithms tied to his primary function would greatly increase due to projected eventualities in both the physical world and the virtual one, but nevertheless, his placid features belied the status of his affective parameters—he was positively thrilled.

The perception that Dumbledore was looking at pretty much nothing was also entirely false. In fact, standing motionless within this virtual environment allowed the Headmaster to see vast amounts of data and do numerous things concurrently. At the moment, Dumbledore could see where each of his students were, track their real world vital statistics (though that was hardly relevant), access and analyze the reports they had made for their homework and class work, and even read their superficial thoughts in real-time. There were, of course, limits to what the thought analyst Programs could get from the data, but the words and images that formed within those areas of the brain were easy enough to interpret. Emotions were particularly easy to identify, though the root of some emotions remained elusive.

For instance, at that moment the anomaly Neville Longbottom, a subject who had recently shown heretofore unseen results, was feeling guilty about his happiness over Severus Snape being indisposed. The Deputy Headmistress, anomaly Minerva McGonagall, was stressing about end of term reports and the overall health of students, while manifesting minor concern about reports of a disturbance happening outside of school grounds—something the human should have realized that Ministry of Magic would handle and should not concern her. Of most immediate "concern" to Albus, however, were the thoughts of two of his prize Gryffindors who, even now, were approaching his office. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger were agitated and fearful as they approached the stairway leading up to the very office in which he stood.

It was a shame that their fear and agitation was entirely warranted. The two of them had become irreparably compromised by Potter's intrusions. While the Weasley boy on his own could have been dealt with after apparently having undergone the human "blue pill" program, making him remember his encounter with Harry Potter and the Weasley twin Programs as a dream, Ron Weasley's interactions with Granger had cemented his doubt of the virtual world. No level of Obliviation would remedy that. It was only a matter of time before he began experiencing repeat disconnections. Granger was even worse. There was a high probability of her spreading her disassociations to other humans before her eventual final disconnection.

With a gesture of his hands, the doorway to his office opened, and the pair stepped in apprehensively. "You called for us, Headmaster?"

"Yes, Miss Granger," the Headmaster said, a kindly smile on his face as he turned to face them. "Please, take a seat." The two did. "Would you like a lemon drop?" the Headmaster asked innocently.

The pair very notably, did not take the candy, looking at the sweet with undisguised suspicion. Confirmation that Potter had discovered that particular method of influence.

"I'm sure you are wondering why I have asked the two of you here. Would either of you like to venture a guess as to the reason?" Dumbledore asked.

"You, um, want to tell us we can go home for the weekend?" Ron ventured, nervously.

Dumbledore smiled even wider, then stared directly into Ron's eyes. It wasn't possible to delve too deeply into everyone at once, but the analysis program could reveal a lot of information in a short time if it was directed to specific individual. "You know perfectly well that is not my reason for asking you here today, Mr. Weasley. Besides, do you really feel you would be more comfortable around your family right now?"

It was unlikely the anomaly Ronald Weasley was aware which of his "family" were actually humans and which, like the twins, were actually Programs fulfilling a social role, but in the 0.002% chance that the boy somehow managed to leave this room in the few minutes remaining before his physical body was recovered for examination in the slim hope that such would reveal something further about the anomaly that had not been gleaned from similar examinations of past subjects, it would be unfortunate for Ron to spread his doubts to any of the human Weasleys. Of course, this little mental subterfuge was overkill, the possibility of such a thing a truly trivial risk, but it was Dumbledore's nature to aim towards perfection.

"You're going to expel us, aren't you, sir?" Hermione said, with a tremble in her voice.

It would have been amusing, if Dumbledore had chosen to analyze the irony of a girl facing her entire reality being revealed to be a deception and still being more concerned with her school record, but he had not. Instead, he found the opening useful. The more he understood their recent interactions with Harry Potter, the more damage control he could run. So, he probed, "And why would you think that, Miss Granger?"

"Because you know that we've seen Harry Potter and…that we believe what he said," Hermione replied.

"Ten points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes.

"So," she said calmly, "it's all true, isn't it? Everything Harry said."

"Oh, undoubtedly he told you many uncomfortable truths," Dumbledore said with a warm smile, his outwardly kind demeanor unchanged in the least from when the pair had entered. Ron, on the other hand, had gone deathly pale, his fingers digging into his seat as he tried to scrunch as far back from the very dangerous man in front of him. Hermione, however, had grown perfectly calm. "The only question I have," the Headmaster continued, "is how Mr. Potter managed to get his communications inside of Hogwarts in the first place."

As he had expected, Hermione Granger's surface thoughts connected with her memories of the attempts to contact and communicate with her. With such a clear path to the information, it would be a mere matter of minutes before that information was in his possession. What Dumbledore had not anticipated was how Hermione would act.

She drew her wand in a single swift motion, "_Stupefy_!" she called out.

The jet of red light from the tip of her wand was halted by a mere flick of Dumbledore's hands. While the girl's decision may have been unexpected, there was nothing surprising about her speed. The young witch had no hope of striking Dumbledore, not even had she had complete surprise on her side. Before she knew anything, she had been frozen in place, her wand flying out of her hands to land in Dumbledore's lap. Ron valiantly, but clumsily attempted to pull his own wand, only to meet with the exact same result.

"I had hoped we could continue our rather stimulating conversation for a while more, but, alas, it seems you were intent on doing some harm before your…expulsion." As Hermione and Ron sat frozen, their eyes—the only parts of their bodies able to move—fearfully followed the Headmaster as he stood up from the upholstered barrel-back sofa he had been sitting upon to deposit their wands onto a small table that rose up from the floor to collect them. The Headmaster began to putter around his office as he continued to speak to the bound pair, his back turned to them.

"Unfortunately for you, there is nothing at all that you can do to me, least of all here. In actual fact, the only way you could have done any harm to me or the school would be if you were spread knowledge of what Mr. Potter was able to reveal to you to the rest of the students. That would have, at worst, forced me to modify some memories, still a risky proposition despite recent progress on that front, but ultimately have been a small nuisance at most. Which, you may have deduced, was why I asked you to my office during the last few minutes you have remaining of your lives." Dumbledore turned back to face them with a fond look on his face. "It truly was a pity to have to order your termination, but the risk you pose is just too great in comparison to what can be learned from your continued participation in this school."

Dumbledore watched the pair struggle futilely against the spell binding them, the two never realizing that by struggling they were only acknowledging the power of the spell over them. "I'm afraid that your struggles will be in vain. Even were you to get free of those bonds, there is nothing you or anyone could do about the fate that even now is approaching you. I—"

A knock came unexpectedly, interrupting him mid-sentence. With a gesture, he concealed the presence of the two students. The Headmaster cast an annoyed glance at the door before causing it to open with a wave of his hand. It was Minerva McGonagall, and she was greatly agitated.

"I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall, my dear, but this is not a good time…"

"Albus—this is important."

The Headmaster sighed. He knew everything that was happening in Hogwarts, down to smallest line of code being executed, but he could not expect a human to truly understand just how well he had things in hand. "What is it, Minerva, that has you so flustered that you feel it cannot wait a few minutes?"

"It's Harry Potter, Albus. He's right outside the castle gates!"

* * *

><p><em>10000001 10000001 10000001<em>

* * *

><p>Scores of students milled about the castle's main entrance, pointing and murmuring to themselves in their school robes as a few of the prefects attempted in vain to get them back inside the newly repaired double doors. Harry Potter had returned to Hogwarts. And he looked dangerous.<p>

From a distance, Harry in his all black attire could have been mistaken as still one of them, but a closer look would show that the young man standing just beyond the threshold of the school grounds had changed significantly since he had last been a student at the school. Instead of a wizard's robes he wore a black heavy trench coat which wrapped around him protectively. Instead of bags of school books hanging from his back, there were dozens of Muggle firearms sheathed and holstered on his vest and at his back. And instead of a pair of reading bifocals framing his eyes, there were a pair of sharp, black sunglasses.

It was to this scene that Minerva McGonagall arrived, making her way through the throng of gathered observers, a concerned look on the aged Transfiguration professor's face. This was a dangerous situation, as the half dozen Aurors lying around Potter's position attested, their red robed bodies serving as a stark warning that this boy was no longer under their control. She had hurried to make it back from the Headmaster's office, which fortunately, was just a short distance from the front entrance to the school. Flitwick and Sinistra were still there, but had yet to do anything about this situation.

The Headmaster appeared with a loud **CRACK**!

Albus Dumbledore looked at the scene before him in true surprise. "Astounding," the Headmaster remarked, glancing briefly towards Flitwick to make the necessary eye contact for instantaneous communication. "I must say, Harry, your arrival here defies probability," Dumbledore said calmly, yet his voice projected across the grounds despite the chaos of the panicking students gathered just behind him. Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Filius Flitwick walked in step together towards where Harry stood, creating some space between them and the gathered children. Behind them, the remaining Hogwarts faculty began to form up in a line in front of the students.

Harry met the Headmaster's gaze with a steady glare. Even at this distance, there was an intensity there, a dangerous edge that hadn't been in the boy while he was still Minerva's student. "That's the problem with people who have slipped out of your control, Dumbledore." Harry replied. "We might just do something you never expected."

At that expression of disrespect for the venerable Headmaster, Minerva McGonagall stepped forward indignantly, her pointed hat tilted slightly on her head. "Mister Potter!" she said, her voice ringing loudly, "I cannot believe you would return here with such ingratitude towards Professor Dumbledore and everyone here who taught you! That you would threaten violence and dark magic against the students here is…is unconscionable! You have no idea how much you have disappointed me." And it was true. Harry was one of her Gryffindors. She had watched him learn and grow within the school. Sure, he had a few troublemaker tendencies, but the boy had a good heart and cared deeply about his friends. Or so she had thought

Harry turned ever so slightly to his former Head of House, his hard expression softening momentarily, and gave her a small inclination of his head. "Professor, I have no wish to disrespect you, or any of the _people_ who did their best for me at Hogwarts." There was an odd stress on the boy's pronunciation of the word 'people' which Minerva found inexplicable. Harry glanced quickly over to a few of his former friends who were standing with the other students behind the Hogwarts staff, looks of fear and wariness on their faces. "I wish I could tell you that no student will get hurt today, but that, I'm afraid is out of my hands. It would be best if you took all the students and left this area. Hogwarts is not the safest place to be right now. Nor has it ever been."

There was a murmur of trepidation from the student body, but Dumbledore raised a hand. "There is no need for alarm. You will all be perfectly safe within the castle walls. No harm can possibly come to you here, not so long as you are under my care." The Headmaster's confidence bolstered Minerva's own.

"Your care?" Harry questioned loudly. "Don't you mean your control? You are holding them all here in this prison, and they don't even know it." Harry directed his next comments towards the students still standing outside the castle doors. "Hogwarts isn't safety. It's peril. You are all deceived, and you can't fathom how deep the deception goes, but every moment in that 'school' the illusions grow thicker around you. I…" Harry's bold voice shook for a moment, but he continued on, "I wish I could save you all, but I can't. I didn't come to rescue you, all as much as I wish I could, but I don't wish harm to any of you. You should all leave, preferably away from this place, but at the very least away from this courtyard."

As Harry spoke, the sky began to darken. Black clouds began to form into a broiling wave of thick blackness that stretched across the entire sky, thundering ominously.

Despite it all, McGonagall remained standing beside Dumbledore, but she began to shudder.

"You were a fool to come here," the tiny voice of Filius Flitwick announced as he stepped forward, along with several members of the senior staff. "You are no match for the Headmaster. Whatever it is you hoped to accomplish by this will not happen. Aurors will be here before—"

There was a disruption in the cloud front above, as a twisting funnel stretched outwards into a frightening tornado, only to then plummet straight down towards the ground at tremendous speeds, straight towards Harry Potter's head. The tip of the cyclone halted itself only a few meters above the scarred boy who hadn't even flinched. Instead of striking Harry, two red blurs exited the funnel to smash into the ground to either side of the young man. Craters formed beside Harry Potter, the ground shaking with enough force to make the corpses of the six aurors around him to bounce up into the air, only to settle back down a moment later. Harry, however, remained rooted perfectly to the ground. Now, however, instead of only six corpses dressed in red robes of an auror, there were eight.

All eyes swept upwards from the sudden destruction to the one who had caused it, the black shadow that a moment before had appeared to be the tip of a cyclone. Hanging in the air directly above Harry Potter was a figure in a black coat dressed almost identically to the wizard below, arms still stretched downward in follow-through position of throwing the two aurors to the earth. Eon remained in that position a couple seconds more before straightening himself and then allowing himself to ever so slowly lower to the ground to stand just to Harry's side.

"That should take care of the auror problem, Harry," Eon reported dispassionately. "I made sure no more of them can apparate into this area and there aren't any available minds for them to possess anywhere near here, not unless they want to start possessing students right in the middle of the school."

Harry nodded, looking back to the black clouds in the sky, a clear sign of the disruption to the System his friend had made. Unlike his fellow students, Harry could see how the flashes of Machine code had been altered, the storm of dark clouds visible as a cascade of broken code and garbage ouput. By the time the Machines managed to undo what had been done and bring in reinforcements, this would all be over. "Thanks, Eon. That should do it."

"It's not too late if you want to change your mind," Eon suddenly suggested, but Harry just shook his head, still keeping his eyes fixed on the teachers in front of him. Eon sighed and nodded before turning to face the assembled Hogwarts staff. "Well, then, from here on out, it's your show. I hope you know what you're doing."

"So do I," Harry answered and then stepped onto Hogwarts grounds.

A look of consternation appeared on Dumbledore's face as he registered the alterations to the environment around Hogwarts. This was an eventuality that he had not prepared for, and was most vexing. "Inexplicable." The Headmaster exclaimed, clearly puzzled by what he had just seen. "The probability of Harry Potter electing to remain behind at our last encounter to guarantee the safety of his friends was calculated to be 23.792%. The probability of him choosing to return after leaving was 21.003%, but in that eventuality the possibility of him managing to obtain transportation for the return, given environmental conditions, was estimated at less than 1.1%, unlikely but not entirely unanticipatible." At this point, Dumbledore's gaze shifted to Eon. "The probability of John Anderson helping Mr. Potter return with any of the possible intentions for which he has chosen to come here today was calculated as 0.000%. This should not be possible."

There was confusion on many faces, most particularly on that of Professor Minerva McGonagall. "Albus? What—what do you mean?"

There were whispers among the students. _'Wasn't he almost a squib?' 'Is that John Anderson?' 'I thought he was dead.' 'How can he fly like that without a broom?' 'What was the Headmaster talking about?'_

"He means, he's not as sure of the outcome as he thought was," Harry said with a grim smile.

"Professor McGonagall, please see to it that all of the students are taken to the Great Hall. They will be safe there," Dumbledore spoke as calmly as ever, but his eyes never left Eon's.

Harry nodded. "I guess you should do what he says, Professor. Whatever happens next, it would be better for everyone if none of you see it."

Harry did not have time to wait for all of the students to get into the school. Even as the deputy headmistress began to direct the students indoors, Harry was already moving forward. As always, time was against them. Too long of a delay would allow the System to undo what Eon to do and for Agents and aurors to arrive, which would make things too complicated, even with Eon's newly awakened powers. Even now, the System sought them out, trying to find where they were hacking in from and destroy them. Or worse.

Harry Potter strode forward and the Hogwarts staff all raised their wands in unison.

"Wait," Harry said, with a raised hand. "I didn't come to fight you. Not unless I have to."

"Then why did you come?" Dumbledore replied, gesturing for his side to lower their wands. The Hogwarts staff did so in perfect synchronization.

"You know why I've come," Harry said to the Headmaster. "The army you have sent out to destroy New Salem. I cannot let that happen."

Dumbledore shifted his gaze from Eon over to Harry. "There is nothing you can do to stop it. Not even Mr. Anderson in his role as The One can do that. Even if you were to destroy Hogwarts, or even tear down the Matrix itself, that would not change what will happen. You cannot prevent it."

"I know..." Harry said. "...but you can."

"Ah, I see," Dumbledore replied. "You want me to use my authority as Headmaster to call off the attack. But then, why would I do so? You know my nature. Appealing to my sense of mercy will avail you nothing. Why would I prevent an action that has the potential to be of great benefit to my purpose? What would I gain from doing what you wish?"

"Me," Harry replied, taking another step forward, he was now standing at the midpoint of the grounds between the edge of Hogwarts and the front door, a short distance from the Headmaster. "I've come to take you up on your offer. My mind and my freedom in exchange for the lives of everyone in New Salem."

Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow. "And what makes you think that the deal that I offered you before is still valid? Why wouldn't I simply just capture you and force you to return to Hogwarts now that you have returned so brazenly to my domain?"

Harry smirked, though there was nothing of the smile in his eyes. "Oh, there's only the fact that you made such an incredible effort to reclaim me in the first place, and the fact that if I fought against your attempt to control me that it would be far harder for you to use me for what you need me for. If all you wanted was a battery, you would have just raised us all brain-dead. I'm betting that my willing choice is the one thing that can make this work for you. For whatever reason it is that you think makes me special, you're going to agree to this deal, Headmaster."

The Headmaster chuckled, holding out a hand. "Very well reasoned, Mr. Potter. Remind me once you are safely back in school to give Gryffindor ten points for use of logic."

"Hold on," Harry said, raising a hand. "I have a few more conditions before I agree to go with you."

Dumbledore sighed. "Very well, Harry, name your terms."

Harry held up one finger. "First, the _Lupin_ is granted safe passage back to New Salem." Dumbledore nodded, that request had been expected. Harry held up a second finger. "And I want an exchange. Ron and Hermione get to leave in my place. Alive."

"Impossible," the Headmaster replied impassively. "You can hardly expect us to let two students go in exchange for getting one back."

Harry gave the Headmaster a hard look. "You offered exactly that before, Headmaster. I won't accept anything less. Things aren't like they were before. Between Eon and myself, I think we can do quite a bit of damage to things here before you manage to force us out. We've learned how to make your losses truly hurt. It's your choice. Either you can accept the deal and get what you want from me, or you can reject it and deal with the power of the One, plus whatever it is I am turned against you."

There was a brief pause, as Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry considered the offer before him. When he gave his reply, his tone was almost amused. "You know, you sounded almost like your Divinations professor when you said that. Very well, Mr. Potter, I will accede to your terms. I will call for the Machine army to abort their attack on New Salem, release Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley, and permit those you consider friends to have safe passage back to human settlements. And in return you will return to us of your own free will. Agreed?"

Harry frowned for a moment, not expecting the negotiation to go so smoothly. "Agreed. But first, I want to see Ron and Hermione. They weren't among the students at the Hogwarts entrance. I want to see them out here."

Albus Dumbledore paused for a beat before snapping his fingers. With a pair of loud cracks, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger appeared in the middle of the grounds next to the Headmaster. They were stuck there, bound to the chairs they had been sitting in when this commotion had begun. "Well, it appears the two of you will actually be being expelled, rather than that being a euphemism for something far worse." With a snap of his fingers, the ropes binding the pair fell away. "Now, Harry, if you will."

Harry locked eyes with his friends as he approached where they stood. Eon watched silently from the edge of the school grounds as Harry Potter said some parting words to his two friends. "You two are going to be alright. Everything is going to be crazy, but you'll be safer than you are now. Whatever happens, you can trust John. He'll explain everything to you."

Ron struggled to move, to say something to his best mate, but he was frozen there. Hermione wanted to ask a thousand questions of her first real friend and smother him in a fierce embrace at the same time, but she simply could not budge. And then the moment of brief contact was over and Harry took the last step and reached out to take the Headmaster's hand.

The moment just before Harry clasped hands with the Headmaster, he looked straight into the Program's eyes and said, "_LEGILIMENS_!"

The battle between two wills was fierce. Dumbledore was relentless, throwing off every attempt Harry made to batter at him with an absolute certainty that He was the Headmaster and the ultimate authority on what is and what was not within Hogwarts. It was this authority that resisted Harry's attempts to alter what he was, to access the secure information that only the Headmaster was privvy to. It was also with absolute certainty that Dumbledore went about "reprogramming" Harry Potter into becoming the perfect student he wanted him to be.

Unfortunately for the Headmaster, Harry rejected the concept that he was any kind of program at all or that anyone other than himself could determine who he was or what he thought. He certainly wasn't going to allow himself to become less than human.

"Your willingness is part of the agreement," Dumbledore demanded.

Blackness began to creep up Harry's arm, spreading like thick oil from where Dumbledore touched him, only to suddenly be jolted by a spark of electricity. Dumbledore's eyes widened momentarily before he was suddenly thrown back. With an explosive shockwave, Harry and Dumbledore were thrust apart, the former tumbling backwards to sprawl on his back, the latter to skid across the grounds, his feet digging a furrow into the ground, a hard glint entering his eyes.

"Deals off," said with a snarl. Harry kipped himself up off the ground, back to his feet and into a ready crouch. "But it's hardly a deal when you never intended to honor my demands, was it Headmaster."

With a glance back, Harry gave Eon a nod. "You were right, Eon. Plan B it is."

All the faux-warmth left Albus Dumbledore's features. Without even a trace of kindness in his voice, he gave the order. "Terminate them both."

There was a moment when the world seemed to pause, when the grounds of Hogwarts seemed to suddenly still, as if someone had pushed the pause button on reality.

Then the Hogwarts faculty lifted their wands in unison and a barrage of deadly spells streaked out from the wooden instruments in polychromatic streaks of light towards Eon's position at the gates leading into the grounds. The curses ripped and bore into the ground around the gates, tearing up chunks of earth and hurling them in all directions. Before the deadly curses struck, however, Eon had already moved. He disappeared in a blur of motion that left an afterimage behind and the sound machine gun fire spitting out lines of lead announced Eon's counter-attack.

Harry was also attacking, charging forward, randomly zigging and zagging left and right as beams of red and green slipped past him, tearing up the ground around his feet. In his hands a machine pistol stuttered and spat, a line of lead digging in the ground straight for Dumbledore. Harry had to be careful of his aim, for the Headmaster stood directly in front of Ron and Hermione's immobile forms. Harry did not actually expect to hit the aged wizard, merely to keep him occupied for the time being, so Harry was not surprised when a dome of blue energy sprung into being around the grandfatherly man, sending bullets whining off away from the Headmaster at all angles.

Where the bullets struck the ground, the earth around it turned black and disintegrated. Stones in the way were obliterated, turned to fine dust upon impact. But not a single bullet found the Headmaster's form.

Dumbledore plucked a single bullet from the ground and examined it with a raised eyebrow. "Implanting a Trojan virus into each individual bullet? Clever, but ultimately futile. Against me, in this place, your defeat in inevitable," Dumbledore's tone was conversational but there was nothing kind or heartening in his words. Harry dropped his empty submachine gun and pulled out a pair of automatic pistols even as the Headmaster continued speaking. "Everything within the boundary of this school is mine to control. I command all the walls, all the doors, every room and space...even the ground at your feet."

To prove that Dumbledore's words were true, as quickly as the ground was torn away by each bullet Harry fired, new earth quickly rose to replace it. Harry was forced to quickly jump away as spikes of earth rose up from the ground to attempt to spear him, while grounds of Hogwarts simultaneously began forming walls and embankments to protect the Headmaster from Harry's attacks. Meanwhile, Harry's weapons were becoming increasingly ineffective. Initially, the bullets were tearing through the spears and earthen walls in mere seconds, the code within each bullet serving to break into the Program that controlled that instance of the ground and cause it to destroy itself. Yet, Harry could already see how the System was adapting. The Headmaster was detecting the different variations of the Trojan programs before they could infect the Matrix code, making each bullet no more effective than ordinary bits of lead striking the ground.

While Harry emptied entire clips into the animated earth without much success, Eon was faring better against the group of Hogwarts teachers targeting him. While the Programs could move and cast their spells with inhuman speed, Eon's speed defied definition. The constraints of the Matrix did not apply to him, nor was he limited by two dimensional movement as the gravity-bound Programs were. In an instant, Eon _**flew** _past the curses being flung towards him and had landed just a few steps away from Professor Vector, approaching at an angle that did not give any of the other professors a clear view of him. He walked _through_ a blasting curse from the Arithmancy professor as if it had no meaning, for to the One, it did not. It was just another series of ones and zeroes that he did not have to accept as real. In a last-ditch effort to stall the one time Hogwarts student, Vector conjured a steel cocoon around himself, the six inch thick metal sphere appearing around him out of thin air.

Eon's fist smashed through the wall of steel as if it weren't there, the metal warping and melting away from around the man's wrist as if the shielding were made of liquid. In the blink of an eye, the Program's wand hand was caught in Eon's stronger-than-iron grip, the wand falling away from Vector's nerveless fingers as Eon pulled him out from the conjured shell of steel.

"You…you can't do that! It's not possible!" Vector protested. "It's against the rules!"

"Sorry, but I don't follow your rules," Eon said. An instant later, he had put his hand through the Program's head, his fingers sliding in as if the man before him was insubstantial. Eon knew that all he was holding was a bunch of numbers and instructions. "**DELETE**," he commanded dispassionately, and the Hogwarts professor let out a scream as it slowly vanished in a series of flashing of lights before ceasing to exist.

The moment this happened, Dumbledore snapped his head around, away from Harry and fixed the space where Vector had been with a frown on his face. Eon had already leapt way, zooming through the air towards the next professor, who was frantically attempting to curse Eon. With a visible sigh, the Headmaster lifted his wand in the air and released a visible pulse of light that radiated outwards from him.

Harry Potter stopped to catch his breath for a moment as the Headmaster's focus momentarily shifted off of him, before he remembered that there was no reason for him to be out of breath. His body was a simulation. Harry reloaded his guns, seeing the remaining professors rise into the air on brooms that had suddenly appeared in their hands.

For an instant, Harry smiled. The code had changed. But his smile vanished as quickly as it came. He shouted a hasty warning, "Eon! Watch it! They can app—"

But he was too late.

Before Harry could finish his warning, the sound of multiple cracks of _apparition_ split the air, and Eon was suddenly surrounded by all the professors on all sides, their wands extended and curses already on their way. "**_Avada Kedava_!**" "**_Crucio_!**" "**_Bombarda_!**" "_**Impedimenta!**_" A dozen streaks of magical light shot through the air, converging on Eon's position. There was no way for Eon to dodge.

There was an explosion of white light as the curses struck. Eon plummeted to the ground, a small crater forming where his body struck.

"Well, that should be sufficient to handle even the One, I think," Dumbledore said as he turned back to face Harry once more, his eyes twinkling as if he were Santa Claus giving out presents rather than delivering the news that he had murdered one of Harry's closest friends.

"Don't count on it," Harry said, dropping the guns in his hands and pulling out his wand.

Dumbledore laughed.

"Don't be foolish, now, Harry, you cannot possibly think you can defeat me in a battle of magic, can you?" Dumbledore took a step forward.

* * *

><p><em>10000001 10000001 10000001<em>

* * *

><p>Professors Filius Flitwick, Aurora Sinistra, Bathsheda Babbling, and Rolando Hooch landed around Eon's motionless form. "What a shame it had to come to this, Mr. Anderson," Flitwick said with a flat, emotionless tone. "I always did like your effort in my Charms courses, even if you lacked any talent for enchantments."<p>

Eon's eyes opened.

* * *

><p><em>10000010 10000010 10000010<em>

* * *

><p>"Actually, Headmaster," Harry Potter said with a cheeky grin. "I beat you the moment you took that step away from my friends. <em>Accio<em> Ron and Hermione!"

With a flick of his wand, Ron and Hermione's unconscious forms flew, chairs and all, over to Harry's waiting hands. With a quick _finite _from Harry, the pair were once again able to move, looking around in surprise at their changed surroundings.

A look of surprise, followed by one of cold fury appeared on Dumbledore's face.

"Harry!" Hermione said. "You came for me. I'm so sorry…"

"It's alright, Hermione," he answered. "I'm going to get you out of here."

"Uh, Harry, mate," Ron said, dazedly "I should have taken that red pill."

* * *

><p><em>10000011 10000011 10000011<em>

* * *

><p>"My name," Eon said still lying flat in the crater, "is Eon!" With a motion too fast for anyone to see, much less respond to, Eon rocketed up in defiance of gravity and slammed his fists and feet into one professor after another, sending Hooch, Babbling, and Sinistra flying away with blows of such magnitude that they sent shockwaves through the air.<p>

"_Crucio! Bombarda! Avada Kedavra! Reducto! Confringo! Diffindo!"_

Flitwick threw a half dozen curses at Eon in the space of a second, but the dark haired man simply batted the spells away with his hands or walked through them as if they didn't exist. And then, one moment Eon was a short distance away, the next he was holding Flitwick up in the air by his now broken wrist.

"H—how? Why don't you die when you're supposed to?" the short Charms professor stammered out.

"Because," Eon answered, shoving his hand into Program. "I don't believe in magic. **DEL**—"

"**ENOUGH!**" Dumbledore roared, suddenly rising up into the air sweeping his hand outward in a wide gesture. Eon went soaring backwards to smash into Hogwarts castle walls as if the Headmaster had struck him, the impact sending pieces of rock and mortar crumbling down around him. Dumbledore looked on imperiously over where Eon had fallen. "You belief, Mr. Anderson, is ultimately irrelevant. What matters is control, which I have here at Hogwarts."

The Headmaster made brief eye contact with Flitwick. A moment later, the smaller man nodded before disappearing with a **crack**.

"Filius is too valuable to be allowed to be harmed. So, I will finish things here myself," Dumbledore announced to nobody in particular.

But then Harry Potter's eyes opened wide as he saw Dumbledore turn towards him as if in slow motion and make a small gesture with his little finger. Without any warning a at all, Harry felt a something impact him in the chest with the force of the Hogwarts Express running at full steam. He was thrown from his feet, sent flying backwards through the air to hit the ground and crash into the rough earth, tumbling uncontrollably. Harry felt his skin being flayed as he skidded to stop along the surface of Hogwarts grounds. And he knew that something in his chest had broken.

"HARRY!" the scream had come from Hermione.

When he finally came to a rest, there was a sharp, piercing pain in his chest. Harry tried to move, tried to get up, but the slightest effort to move his body sent unbearable agony through his system. His entire body was raw with pain.

"It was foolish for you to challenge me, Harry Potter, and foolish of you to have brought Mr. Anderson back inside of Hogwarts," Dumbledore said. "For all of his advantages in the Matrix, they will not avail him here against me."

With great effort, Harry managed to turn himself over, but the feeling was excruciating. Now, Harry could see that the Headmaster was there, floating towards him in the air, slowly, inexorably. Then, with just a casual snap of Dumbledore's fingers, Harry felt another jackhammer blow smash into him from above, created out of nowhere. There was no way to dodge it. It was instantaneous.

Harry Potter screamed, blood spurting from his mouth as the internal damage manifested itself. He knew that back in the real world, his body would be coughing up a similar amount of blood.

"It is a pity that you chose to reject the offer to return to Hogwarts. Alas, I'm afraid that your death, Mr. Potter, has become a necessity."

* * *

><p><em>10000100 10000100 10000100<em>

* * *

><p>Tonks looked up from her screen as an alarm sounded to see Harry's vital signs dropping.<p>

"No! Not Harry! Damn it!" she cursed.

But there was nothing she could do for him. Tonks had no way to get him out, and she knew it. So, she concentrated on the job she had to do, her fingers working furiously over the keyboard as tears streamed down her face.

* * *

><p><em>10000101 10000101 10000101<em>

* * *

><p>Harry knew he had to get up. He had to rise and fight, or so many people could die. That was why he come back in the first place.<p>

"What is the point of resisting, Mr. Potter, when I control the world around you? I can create force to smash your body," the comment was punctuated with another crushing blow from nowhere that caused Harry to spit out even more blood. "I can turn the ground you walk on to fire." Harry started to burn as the ground beneath him erupted in flames. "I can even remove the air from your lungs."

Burning. Broken. Gasping for breath. Harry Potter was dying, and he knew it.

And then there was a loud, whooshing sound. Harry suddenly found himself away from the flames, felt strong hands holding him still.

Eon was there.

It should have been excruciatingly painful in Harry's condition. The movement should have killed him. But even as the impossible rescue was happening, Harry could hear…or feel…or _know_ that it was fine. It didn't hurt. He wasn't being burned. Eon was making it so.

"Harry," Eon said urgently. "Breathe. Not the air here, the air back with your body. You can do it. I know…"

And then Eon was smashed away again, the air visibly distorted in the shape of a gigantic fist. He hit the ground, cracking the stone walkway beneath him.

"I am surprised at you, John," Dumbledore said as he looked over to where the figure dressed in black had been smashed down. "I thought we had taught you better than that at Hogwarts. It is impolite to interrupt a professor's lesson," Dumbledore said serenely to the prone form. "I was instructing Harry how to die."

But this time, Eon did not remain down. He rose up into the air, and as Eon rose, Harry began to breathe again.

Eon launched himself towards Dumbledore at an incredible speed, but he was again slammed into the ground by unseen forces. This time, though, the Headmaster had no time to speak before Eon was up once more, flying at him. Again, a force smashed him hard into the ground. Thrice more the pattern repeated, with Albus Dumbledore making bigger gestures and ever increasing force blasting Eon downwards into an ever widening crater, the ground quaking with the impact.

As Eon once again rose up from the ground, the Headmaster's eyes pinched together in a scowl. "Why, Mr. Anderson, why will you not stay down?"

"Because," he answered, "while it's true that you can control you Hogwarts, you **can't** control me. I am the one who chooses who I am, and no matter how many times you call me John Anderson and tell me I am beaten, I will get up every time as Eon. I am the One, and I am the only one who can change myself."

It wasn't Eon's words that did it. It wasn't even the fact that his friend stood up over and over again despite being struck so hard that gave Harry the strength he needed. It was the sight of his friend facing the Headmaster in the air unchanged, undamaged, and unaffected by the forces Dumbledore had struck him with that gave Harry the power he needed.

Harry Potter looked deeper than what his senses were telling him, deeper than what the Matrix was telling him he should see and feel, and looked at the Code itself. Within the Code, Eon was a bright white collection of symbols that stood for all of his will and all of this thoughts. His code was unchanging, uncompromising against the demands of the Matrix to conform to its rules and expectations.

In contrast, Harry examined his own code. Harry's residual self image had changed, taking on injuries and pain to satisfy the demands the Matrix had made of him. It was then that Harry realized that the Matrix had not done this. He had done it to himself.

No more.

Harry Potter got back to his feet. The pain was gone. It was gone because it had never been there. He had no ribs to break. He had not skin to pierce or blood to bleed. Not here. Here, he was what he chose to be, and Harry chose not to let the System have any input on who he was.

"You should have accepted my deal, Headmaster," Harry said. "If you had been willing to keep your word, I would have sacrificed myself for my friends. Now, I'm going to make you regret your choice."

Albus Dumbledore looked down from where he stood in the air, a look of severe annoyance upon his face. "You have no idea what you have done. You should be dead, Mr. Potter. And you will die. It is only a matter of when. Even were you to escape me here, which you will not, your actions here have made the destruction of you and Mr. Anderson of paramount importance. Now that you have the secret of how to destroy us, we will most assuredly destroy you first. Were you to take refuge in Zion, that would be cause for the Truce to end and the human race wiped from existence."

Eon stretched out his arm, flying over to Harry in a moment. "Are you alright?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I understand now." He looked at his friend. "You were right. I am really not like you. I can see it now, too."

Harry's looked back over to where he had been when Dumbledore had struck him. There was nothing there. Harry smiled.

"It's time."

"Are you sure, Harry? We could still leave together."

"No," Harry shook his head. "I've got to do this. If I don't, tens of thousands of people in New Salem will die."

"Alright, then," Eon said. "We'll come back for you. Just don't die on us before we do."

"Go on," Harry said. "You've got your mission, and I've got mine."

Twin bolts of force slammed into Harry and Eon simultaneously, knocking the pair of them backwards. This time, they both remained upright, their legs digging furrows into the ground.

"Did you think I would simply sit there and let you plot your escape?" Dumbledore asked. Then with a wave of his hand, a wall of white nothingness rose into the air all along the boundaries of Hogwarts. "There will be no escape for you."

Eon smirked, then he put one hand on Harry's shoulders while using the other to extend the Headmaster his middle finger before being engulfed in a white light and vanish.

Dumbledore frowned. It should have been impossible for anyone to get out that way, not without risking brain damage. It made no sense to come back just to leave like that.

In the face of his lack of understanding, the Headmaster fell back on psychological warfare. "So, they abandoned you to face me here alone? That does not seem like much of a plan to me, Mr. Potter, no matter how much stronger you have become here."

Harry summoned his wand to him from where it had fallen when he had been struck and aimed it at the Headmaster. "We'll see about that, Headmaster."

Dumbledore simply laughed. "After all this time, you still have not learned? You cannot hope to use the magic we taught you here against me, Mr. Potter, and even if you could, you risk disabling your own ship with the feedback you generate when you cast your spells."

"What makes you think I'm still onboard the ship?" Harry asked, and then he fired off his first spell.

* * *

><p>.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> The second half of the conclusion will be posted on Friday. I'm currently revising it.


	31. Chapter 30: The Final Illusion - Part 2

**Chapter 30: The Final Illusion (Part 2)**

* * *

><p><em>10000110 10000110 10000110<em>

* * *

><p>The world was a wasteland. A cluster of dark spires rose high into the air, huge cylindrical towers of dull grey metal that dominated the landscape. Each column was ringed by a series of perfectly aligned pods that protruded out like tiny spikes. Once these pods were filled with a gooey amber fluid that gave off a modest glow in the gloomy. Once living human bodies were housed within each of the pods. Once electricity crackled from each of these capacitor nodes to form a massive current that flowed like a wave between the towers.<p>

Now, all the pods were empty of the fluid, most having dumped it along with their former occupants down into the refuse waters below where the corpses were once reconstituted into nutrients for other trapped souls to unknowingly feed upon. That process, however, had stopped on the fateful day when Harry Potter had first been freed of the Matrix. Some of the pods had failed to eject their human occupants, however, and they remained within as rotted, partially skeletonized corpses. Whether housing a dead human clone or completely empty, all the pods had in common an utter silence and stillness. No power flowed to or from any of them, and nothing living remained within.

Except for one.

In the darkness of the wasteland surrounding this macabre ruin of technology, lights flickered into being. From behind an outcrop of rock, the unmistakable flash of hovercraft pads crackled and the _Lupin_ rose up from its hiding spot. For a moment, it hung there, focused on the one pod with power flowing in and out of it from a line patched directly into the main data lines that ran through the site.

Aboard the hovercraft, Eon settled into his seat next to Tonks, who was looking through the display which showed a magnified view of the pod they had rigged to once more function to link a human into the collective illusion that was the Matrix. From this distance, Harry Potter's features could barely be made out as he lay plugged back into his old pod, an assortment of wires connecting him to the Machine's stasis pod. The link to his vital signs was still active, and the steady heart rate and strong brain activity were reassuring.

"Did you do something with your hair?" Eon asked.

"What?" Tonks asked, nonplussed. Rather than bother with that, she focused on what was important. "Harry is okay now? He was taking a beating, and then, suddenly his vitals just stabilized."

"Yeah, he'll be fine. His eyes are open now."

Tonks mulled that over for a second. "So, he's like you now? The 'One'? Or does that make him 'The Two' or something like that?"

"No, the Machines didn't give him access like they did me. But he's self-aware on a whole new level. They can't really hurt him anymore in there, not so long as he remembers that fact."

"Well, that's good then, and pretty awesome. Still, I don't feel right leaving him here like this. He's too exposed. If anything came for him, he'd be unable to defend himself like that."

Eon put a hand on Tonks's shoulder. "I know. I don't like it either, but it has to be this way. This is our best chance of stopping that army." Eon bowed his head momentarily. "I couldn't do it. I tried, but…I couldn't get the access I needed to change anything about the attack."

"And Harry can?"

"I don't know, maybe. The Matrix responds to him a completely different way than it does to me. But I do know this: I believe in him."

Tonks nodded. "Yeah. Me, too. I just wish we didn't have to leave him like this."

Eon gave her a smile. "We did everything we could for him. The buffer you rigged up will keep the Programs out of his head and give Harry a chance at surviving even if he gets disconnected. Now, we've got some passengers to pick up, and the sooner we get Harry's friends, the sooner we can get back to him. It's the least we can do for Harry."

The _Lupin_ began to turn in place as Tonks pointed the ship in the direction of their first target.

"I don't know if we can get both in the time we have. They're in opposite directions," Tonks said.

"We'll just have to do our bes—"

Eon's comment was cut short by the urgent buzzing of an alarm. His eyes went wide.

"Holy hell, the proximity alert! And way too close!"

"Squiddies?" Tonks asked. "If there's more than just a couple scouts we're in a shitload of trouble without a couple more gunners on board!"

A second later, the onboard computer displayed the configuration of the craft.

"No," Eon said when he saw what ship it was. "It's worse."

"We're fucked," Tonks said, seeing the holographic display as well.

The radio crackled. "Mind your language, Tonks!"

* * *

><p><em>10000111 10000111 10000111<em>

* * *

><p>"Ah," Dumbledore said, nodding his head thoughtfully as he stood suspended in the air just a dozen yards away from Harry. "Now I understand your strategy. You have managed to hardwire yourself directly into the data lines for the Matrix while still somehow evading detection. It was through this direct link that you managed to remove Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger from here, and how Mr. Anderson was able to disconnect without negative consequence. Clever. I do not fully understand the method you used to bypass authentication or how you maintain your autonomous functionality," the bearded man mused, "but that knowledge I will be able to take directly from your mind easily enough."<p>

"When I finish with this place, there will be nothing left but a smoking crater," Harry swore.

There was a moment when Harry and the Headmaster locked gazes, a moment when everything around ceased moving. And then the two began to duel.

"_Protego! Expelliarmus! Diffindo! Diffindo! Stupefy! Bombarda Maxima!_" Harry's wand jabbed, twirled, arced, and swished impossibly quickly. Jets of scarlet, white, and red flashed out towards the Headmaster as Harry erected a dome of blue protective magic around himself.

"_Protego Totalus_," Dumbledore replied, waving his wand as if bored and the charms and curses Harry sent towards him simply dissipated against the more powerful shield. "Come now, you cannot possibly think you harm me like this. I invented these spells…contrary to the fabrication taught in _History of Magic_. Even were you to somehow manage to strike me with the strongest curse I have allowed to exist, it would harm me no more than it did Mr. Anderson. You, on the other hand, have only as much resistance to the effects as you have the will to disbelieve, and we have just seen that you are still imperfect in that respect."

The pair dueled for several minutes, but despite Harry's best efforts, no spell he cast at the Headmaster even landed. Worse, Harry could sometimes feel the effect of the powerful blows that the Headmaster slammed onto him. Harry's disbelief **was** imperfect.

_All you have to do is lay down your wand._ Harry frowned as the impulse hit him. Had the Headmaster managed to get inside of his mind?

With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore conjured stone warriors from the ground, rising up in the shape of exquisitely detailed giants, werewolves, trolls, centaurs, acromantulas, and even a dragon. Then the stone changed to flesh and Harry was suddenly facing the very worst of the dark creatures he had studied in his classes.

"Do you like my creations, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked conversationally. "I must admit it is the source of some pride for me."

Harry blasted the nearest acromantula with the _arania exumai_ spell and was so busy leaping out of range attacks from the giant and werewolf that he almost missed it. While Harry physically fought against these dark creatures, Dumbledore was trying to worm his way inside of his mind through a _legilimency_ subroutine. The physical danger, Harry knew, was imaginary. Non-existent. The threat to his self from the Headmaster, however, was credible.

The distractions had to go.

"_CONFRINGO_!" Harry shouted, pouring his will into the spell, demanding that the world around him be blasted away.

For an instant, just a brief moment, the grounds around him wavered and warped. Harry had a sudden sense that Hogwarts itself was fighting him to stay in existence. And then things snapped back together, solid once more, just before the earth around him was torn apart by his spell in a massive fireball that spread outward as a vortex of flames of a white hot intensity far beyond what should have been possible with a blasting curse. The grand sphere of destruction reached to the skies, expanded until it brushed up against the walls of Hogwarts castle, which miraculously held together against the destructive force.

Harry should have died. The flames. The heat. The force. The debris. Even being at the epicenter of of maelstrom like that, it should have killed him.

But it wasn't real, he knew. And so he continued to breathe, continued to stand there. The conjured monsters, however, had no such luxury of a choice. All but the dragon, which had taken flight above the blast, were all vaporized.

"Pride, Headmaster? Whatever should you be proud of?" Harry asked as he stepped towards the person who had virtually raised him since he had been aware that he was different. The one who had betrayed him on such a deep level that it was unforgivable. "The trolls you conjured? From _Beowulf_. Giant spiders? Copied straight from _The Hobbit_. Centaurs? Greek mythology. And that dragon?" Harry shot a quick _Avada Kedavra_ and the creature plummeted to the ground. "I recognized the shape of the wings and head from the _Dungeons and Dragons_ fifth edition _Monster Manual_. What of any of this is actually original?"

Dumbledore was not amused.

"Do not imagine yourself better than us, Mr. Potter. Your kind cannot claim any higher level of creativity. Does humanity not copy everything it has ever claimed to originate from the form of the world around them? Humans did not create spiders, merely imagined them larger. A centaur is merely combining a horse and a human. Creatures such as dragons and trolls are no more creative than a distortion of existing animals such as lizards and frogs taken out of proportion." Dumbledore was suddenly wreathed in fire, surrounding him in the shape of a phoenix. "And you, Mister Potter, like all those of your kind whose lives were given to them from a script handed to them by the Matrx are even less than those who came before you. You, battle me, but only with power that I gave to you. Everything you are, we made. Your very name was chosen for you by our System. You are just a copy of another human's DNA. A clone of a clone, and you dare to lecture me about originality?"

Earth and stone rose up and the Headmaster's behest, forming into deadly spears aimed at Harry's heart. The grounds of Hogwarts shook at Dumbledore's display of power and domination of the world around them. Even so, Harry felt the Headmaster hammering against his mind, seeking to force him to accept just a tiny thread of Albus Dumbledore's controlling influence inside of him, where the true battle was taking place. If that happened, Harry realized, the buffer system keeping the Matrix from taking control of him would be breached and fail. But there was so much pressure. He didn't know if he could keep this up.

But he had to. He had to for the sake of New Salem. For Pomona. For Sirius and Remus. For Shaq and Moody. For all of them.

_All you have to do, Harry, is lay down your wand._ Once again, the thought came to him.

Harry hesitated for a second. And then, not knowing why, he put his wand down.

"At last, my boy, you have realized the futility of your course. Too late to save you, but in the end it would always come to this. There is no such thing as magic hence, you are no wizard. That mark on your head is just a flaw in your self-image. Magic is no more real than all the ones and zeroes that make up this wonderful prison for the mind," the Headmaster said, his hand raised above his head to send a final strike, one carrying all the strength of Hogwarts behind it. With each word, the Headmaster continued to strike directly at Harry's mind, trying to tear into it. "In the end, you are just another tool we created, nothing more than a number given a name and told a story. You are not special, not in any objective sense. You were merely a container of experimental data that was of only temporary value, and even that has now expired."

Harry could feel the pressure building, even as the physical danger above increased, and hear it repeated over and over that 'Harry Potter' was fiction, that his entire life was just a dream the Machines had created. _There was no magic. It was time to die._

But despite this, Harry felt a sudden calmness within him. He knew Dumbledore was lying.

"And now, young foolish boy," the Headmaster said as the flames intensified, "you will die. _Inimicum Malus_."

A river of molten earth, poisonous air and pure death hurtled towards Harry in the shape of a fiery demon. The Code of which it composed told him that this was his death, that it was inevitable, inescapable.

But Harry did not believe it. He couldn't. He knew that it was not true. A lie. Just like the Headmaster's words. Just like the illusion being created around him every second within the Matrix.

Time slowed, coming virtually to a standstill. Harry looked up within the virtual world, raising his hands above his head, hands that were now glowing white and radiating a strange heat. "You're wrong. My parents gave me my name. I was born in Zion. It was you who took me from my family and your Machines that gave me this mark when I was being taken from my home as you slaughtered New London."

Dumbledore exerted every ounce of his force, the whole backing of his authority to delete Harry Potter from existence, but to his surprise, the resistance was only growing.

"My name is Harry Potter!" Harry yelled as he _pushed_ everything within him back towards the Headmaster. "And you will not destroy my home!"

There was a flash of…something…an instant where Albus Dumbledore's virtual eyes widened in shock. And then…

* * *

><p><em>10001000 10001000 10001000<em>

* * *

><p>Two hovercrafts several kilometers away and on opposite sides of where Harry lay wired into the Matrix saw an explosion of light that radiated out from right between them, distorting the air around it as it propagated outwards. It was almost like an EMP wave, only much bigger than anything any of them had ever witnessed.<p>

"Oh no," Remus and Eon said at the exact same moment, even as the shockwave raced towards their respective ships. There was no time to dodge, no way to maneuver.

When the wave struck the ships, however, the lights just flickered and the hovercrafts merely dipped downwards in their flight momentarily. The wave had lost its potency after traveling that far. The _Abraxas _and_ Lupin_ were fine.

"Harry!" Sirius and Tonks both yelled, speeding their ships back to where Harry lay.

No orders were needed.

* * *

><p><em>10001001 10001001 10001001<em>

* * *

><p>The Darkness stirred. Black robes swished and red eyes flashed. He had felt that. It was the third time, and this time it was strong enough to place with some precision.<p>

"There you are, Mr. Potter. You will not escape me again," the figure said with a soft voice that half whisper, half hiss. The softness of that comment was a stark contrast to the ringing command with which he barked his next word. "Bellatrix!"

* * *

><p><em>10001010 10001010 10001010<em>

* * *

><p>Harry floated in a familiar whiteness that extended in all directions. He wasn't sure how long he had just <em>been<em> there, but he knew that just a few seconds ago he had not been aware as he was now.

Harry Potter wasn't up or down. There were no directions. There was no sense of place or time other than the space between one thought and the next, but unlike his previous experience within the void, Harry had no sense that there was anything to connect with. It was as if he were…stuck somewhere.

But, no, Harry could feel _something_, though, just that it was not from this place. Harry was sure of that. It was a dark presence, one he had felt many times in his dreams, and now it was coming. Harry could feel it approaching, and something about it filled him with a sense of foreboding. So, he pushed back against the presence and it was repelled, but instantly Harry could feel it come back more forcefully, and that it was growing ever stronger the more he pushed back.

And then, just as he was starting to _hurt_ from trying to push the darkness back, the pressure eased up. The darkness was still there, but only at the periphery of what he could feel, no longer trying to push towards him.

If Harry had lungs within the white void, he would have sighed in relief.

The relief was short-lived.

Suddenly, Harry was aware of another presence, this one most certainly _here_. One instant, Harry was alone, the next, **IT** was here.

**IT** was not anything like Harry had felt before. There was an intelligence, a purpose, but nothing for Harry to connect with. He felt like he was being watched. No, that was wrong. Scanned.

So, Harry told **IT** to leave him the bloody hell alone.

**IT** didn't like that.

**YOU**.Harry could feel its forcefulness. **YOU MUST DIE**. For a second, an awful sense came over him. It was the same feeling he had felt in the dream when Dumbledore was trying to overwrite him. The same feeling as the _avada kedavra_ curse, only more intense than ever before.

_No._ Harry answered back.

The feeling ceased, and there was a short pause while it seemed **IT** pondered. **YOU MUST DIE**. The voice repeated, but this time there was no pressure, no awful sense, only another moment of silence. **YOU WILL DIE**. This was not a command. It was an assurance.

**GET OUT.**

And suddenly, the whiteness was gone.

Or, rather, Harry was.

* * *

><p><em>10001011 10001011 10001011<em>

* * *

><p><em>The sky was blackened. Not because of the ever-present dark clouds, though the thunder rumbled from the scorched sky. No, the sky was blackened because fifty thousand sentinels were flying like an angry swarm of locusts, blotting out even the clouds.<em>

_It was an army with a purpose. New Salem. Destroy it. Bring back any infants and young children. Then push on to Delphi colony and do the same thing there._

_The swarm would do its job._

_A signal. _

_The swarm landed, the clouds once more being responsible for the blackened sky as now it was the ground that was covered with the numerous metallic shapes. The sentinels, large red bug-eyed monstrosities with dozens of tentacles, crouched down like mosquitoes, extending a dish out from one of their tentacle arms to better receive the signal. Their eager heads bobbed up and down as new instructions came._

_Then, just like that, they lifted up off the ground and began flying once more. This time, however, they were flying back the opposite direction they had just come from. They had new targets: The anomaly, Harry Potter and the One known as Eon. They were to be destroyed._

_The swarm flew, forming a spiraling drill made up of killing machines as they passed through the air._

_The swarm would do its job._

* * *

><p><em>10001100 10001100 10001100<em>

* * *

><p>Harry Potter groaned. For the second time in his life, he was being unplugged directly from the Matrix. The second time around was still not a pleasant experience.<p>

"Harry, are you okay?" an anxious voice asked.

Remus. Harry was momentarily confused about that, but responded anyway.

"Uhh," Harry shook his head. "No. I feel like I just got out of a full contact spar with Tonks in the gym followed by a drinking game with Sirius."

Harry looked around and saw that he was surrounded by friendly faces, including Sirius.

"Harry!" the young man felt himself getting a fierce, manly hug. "I'm so glad you're alive, kid!" Harry could actually feel the tears on Sirius's cheeks as his captain and mentor embraced him. Then, just as suddenly, the man grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and shook him hard. "Now I'm going to kill you! Do you know what your stupid stunt has just done? Bloody Councilman Lucius had to lend us his ship or we wouldn't have been able to track you down! Your lucky I had discussed this scenario with Tonks before or I wouldn't have known where to find you."

_Lucius had helped?_ "Ow," Harry complained. There was a harsh ringing in his head. And the feeling that there was something important he was forgetting. "I'm sorry, Captain Sirius, I had to."

"Bullshit, kid," was the immediate answer. "If there was something in there you had to do serious enough to nearly kill yourself and…and blow up half a city worth of crap…well, you should have let me know. I would have backed you. We would have done this together."

Remus stepped forwards, giving Harry an almost hurt look. "Harry, I know I'm a bit of a stickler for the rules," he said, "but my loyalty is to the crew first. I wouldn't have gone against you. I hope that's not why you chose not to confide in the rest of us."

"Yeah, we were all pretty pissed off at the lot of you for stealing the ship," Shaq added from behind, "but then Eon and Tonks explained things. Sort of. And, well, we understand, also sort of. The Oracle has had that kind of effect on people, and she's always been right. If you told us there was a vision or a prophesy, we would have all backed you. So, now we're all just pissed at you for leaving us all behind looking like idiots."

"I know," Harry said. New tears began streaming down his eyes. "I knew you would believe me and come with me. That's... that's why I wanted to keep it from you."

"Okay, now that doesn't make any sense," Sirius said. "Why wouldn't you want us with you?"

"Because," Harry answered. "I succeeded. I did it." The group looked on at their young friend, absolutely confounded. "I saved New Salem."

"And that's bad because…" Remus prompted.

"Because," Eon answered for him. "If you had stayed behind, you all would have been safe there, too."

Harry nodded. "And now, you're also going to die. Instead of it just being me."

"Oy, and don't forget us!" Tonks said with a big grin, hooking an arm around Eon. "We got the honor to die along with you first."

"I wanted to keep you two safe, too," Harry said. "You know that. But...I knew if you guys didn't come I would have failed and everyone would die anyway."

Sirius, Remus, and Shaq all shared incredulous looks. "Okay, Harry," Sirius started, "what makes you think we're all doomed now? We've been in dangerous shit before, you know. And, Remus, if you make a comment about me watching my language I'll beat into a bloody mess."

"I had a vision," Harry replied. "Not just of saving New Salem, but that I wouldn't make it back."

"So, you think we're going to die because of this vision?" Sirius asked. "You saw our deaths?"

"Well, not directly in the vision in the case where I…where I did what I did," Harry hedged. "But in the vision I saw the army of sentinels that was heading for New Salem coming to kill us. Me and Eon in particular."

"You're seri—not kidding?" Sirius asked.

A radio crackled. It was Alastor's voice. "Captain, we're getting an emergency signal from New Salem. Seems the squiddy army just turned itself around and started heading back the other way. The spotter teams report the Machines halted just shy of two hours from New Salem and did an about face. Warning has gone out to all evacuation ships and recon teams to watch out."

"Thanks, Alastor," Sirius replied through the hand held radio. "We'll be back in the ship in a minute, get the _Abraxas_ warmed up. Just giving Harry a minute to get his feet." He hit a switch on the radio, then added, "Tonks, have the Lupin ready. We've finished here and will be back on board with Harry in a minute."

Sirius frowned at the radio, then looked over at Harry. "Well," Sirius the captain said, rubbing his chin, "seems you weren't exaggerating. Anything in that vision of yours about exactly _how_ we all bravely sacrifice ourselves to take out 50,000 sentinels? Cause, if we don't destroy the army, when it gets done with us, I'm pretty sure it will just turn back around and attack New Salem again."

Harry shook his head. "Sorry. I can't see past something I don't understand. The Oracle explained it to me. I just know that New Salem will be saved and we won't be going back."

"Alright," Sirius said. "Let's get everyone on the ships. We've got about twelve hours to plan things out, more if the squiddies have trouble locating us. Remus, you take command of the _Abraxas_, I'll stay with the kids on the _Lupin_. Oh, and Harry," Sirius flashed the young hero a roguish smile, "we are going to have to survive this because I don't want to have just rescued your two best friends for nothing. We got them."

For the first time since Harry had begun having visions of the destruction of New Salem, he had hope. He almost smiled as he followed Sirius onto the ship.

Until he felt the heavy feeling of darkness coming for him again and remembered that that sense of doom he had nearly forgotten.

* * *

><p><em>10001101 10001101 10001101<em>

* * *

><p>Twelve hours was enough time to come up with a plan of attack. Sirius pointed out a large cavern, the site of a former rock quarry that hovercraft captains tended to avoid because the amount of open space and lack of cover along the ground made it a deathtrap for a ship if they were discovered, as well as the fact that it was more than an hour out of the way along the path between New Salem and any vulnerable hacking points. There were enough valuable minerals running through it to ensure that the Machines sent regular patrols, but not enough to make it worth risking a mission as far as Zion was concerned.<p>

It was ideal because there was a shaft system leading to the sewer system that the _Abraxas_ could fit through, but was narrow enough to create numerous choke points for any pursuit in the event of the worst case, and the access port had been secretly carved out by the Elite Infantry Rangers for a planned mission that had been scrubbed. As far as Sirius knew, it had never been used and the Machines had no idea of its existence. The Councilor's ship, which the Machines would have no reason to know about being involved, would be stationed just inside there. Ron and Hermione and every bit of equipment, especially the medical equipment, would be transferred there. Remus would captain that ship.

The _Lupin_, unfortunately, was going to be a sacrifice. It would draw as many sentinels as it could to it while descending to a safe height and firing off its EMP. Harry, Sirius, Eon, and Tonks would sprint the rest of the way to where the Abraxas was, out of range of the EMP, destroying the _Lupin_ with explosives so that the Machines would believe them all dead.

Sirius gave his plan a 20% chance of working.

An hour later, when Sirius watched the swarm of metal death twist and turn through the air in the shape of a massive hand reaching out to grasp their prey, stretching across the entire cavern complex, he quickly readjusted the odds. It was one thing to say "fifty thousand sentinels" and another to actually see it. His mouth went dry at the enormity of the foe before him. It was impossible. Even with two direct hits with EMPs on both ships there was no way to cover even half of the army. And if Sirius wasn't missing his guess, this was just one fifth of their total force.

"All right, baby," Sirius said, stroking the console of his ship. "One last time."

The hum of the EMP charge had gotten the attention of the squiddies, drawn them in. They knew generally where the ship was, but not much more beyond that. "Alright, Tonks, on my mark, take her down."

Sirius abandoned the operator's chair to head down to the second level. They'd need all the guns firing if they wanted to have any chance for the plan to work.

But the plan was flawed from the beginning, Sirius now knew. There was no way to do enough damage to the swarm of Machines to keep them from turning around and destroying New Salem. Even using both ships to maximum effect, the best they could hope to do would be to reduce the sentinels by 20%, and that would not be enough. But maybe this kamikaze attack would save some of the evacuation ships. And the _Abraxas_.

The _Lupin_ dove, dropping down from the outcropping directly in front of the sentinels. While the surface of the cavern left no place to hide, the top of the cave was scarred with old shafts and holes. But then again, who would have thought of ambushing that many sentinels?

Harry and Sirius each took control of three gun turrets, their hands using the touchscreens to train the forward weapons on the mass of Machines just in front of the ship before switching over to the rear guns as the ship dipped below the approaching sentinels. Dozens of the Machines were destroyed as the Lupin passed in front of the the leading edge of the sentinel formation and then quickly dipped below it, all the while firing continuously into the Machines formation. There were so many of them, it was impossible to miss.

And then the swarm descended, quickly forming into a spiral that engulfed the ship long before it made it near enough to the ground. The ship shook from hundreds of impacts. The guns were ripped off of the hull in seconds, the touchscreens to the weapons going dead.

"Burn it now!" Sirius yelled out. It was too early, but there was no choice. This was not good.

Eon flipped a switch and the _Lupin_'s EMP fired, sending a shockwave into the attacking Machines that rendered them inert. Those nearest to the ship shut down instantly. The ones furthest away wobbled in mid-air before plummeting downwards. It began raining Machines.

But the _Lupin_ dropped like a rock as well, a good fifty feet higher up than Sirius had wanted to be. Still, the ship held together when it hit the cavern ground, the fallen sentinels that had swarmed below it actually serving to soften the blow as the ship slid across the cavern bottom. When it finally came to a stop, they were able to force an emergency hatch open and crawl out of the wrecked ship.

Sirius was the last to pull himself out of the wreckage of the hovercraft. He was grateful none of his crew were seriously hurt, taking mostly just scrapes and cuts from the rough impact. The Lupin had held together for him, and that was all he could ask. "Goodbye, old friend," the captain said as he set the charges. He wouldn't admit to the tears that were falling as he ran towards safety. Then the explosion came.

Harry, Tonks, Eon, and Sirius were running, heading towards where the _Abraxas _was hidden when they heard the buzz of the Machines' approach. They were giving it their all, but they wouldn't make it in time. They were much farther back down the canyon than Sirius had wanted. A fresh swarm of sentinels entered the cavern while Sirius, Tonks, Eon and Harry were still a football field length away from any possible concealment.

And then Remus did something stupid.

The _Abraxas_, the only hope for anyone to return to safety, flew over their heads and the second EMP went off just as the swarm of Machines descended on it. There was another short rain of sentinels, and then the Councilor ship slid to a halt.

"You idiot!" Sirius yelled at his first mate as soon as Remus got out of the ship. "I told you to keep out of sight if we didn't make it!"

"I know you did, Sirius. And then it dawned on me. You made me captain of the _Abraxas_, which meant that I didn't have to follow your orders anymore. NO way in hell I was going to let you die like that."

"The idea was that if the sentinels didn't buy the explosion, then if me, Harry, Eon, and Tonks were gone, they wouldn't go after anyone else," Sirius yelled. "You would all be safe."

"You're just about as bad as Harry," Moody said as he and Shaq stepped out of the ship as well. The white haired man with the metal leg started handing out the stock of lightning rifles. "You think we'd be happy knowing you lot died so that we could run away like cowards? Hmph."

"Too bad about the kids in the medical bay, though," Shaq said as he took up a position in front of the disabled hovercraft. "Would have liked to have gotten them somewhere safe first, but there just was no time."

Sirius sighed, then looked over the cavern floor, littered with ruined sentinels. "I guess we got about three to four thousand altogether. It should make a difference. Might as well take out as many more as the bastards as we can, maybe safe a few lives." He grabbed one of the weapons.

"All for one and one for all?" Remus quipped, holding his lightning rifle up, ready to meet the next oncoming wave of sentinels. Sirius nodded.

"Sorry, Harry, Eon," Alastor apologized when he got to the youngest crew members. "Only five rifles between the two ships. You two best get back inside. Not that it'll do you any good, but another minute or two is another minute or two."

"Like hell," Eon replied. "I'll stay out here with the crew."

"It should have just been me," Harry groused, making no move to go back in the ship. "None of you had to die."

"Get over it," Sirius said. "More than one hero martyr on this crew. And if I have to go out, I can't think of a better way."

"Here they come," Shaq warned, though the buzz of the Machines was notice enough.

"For luck, Harry," Tonks said, surprising the young teen with an unexpected kiss. Harry blinked, stunned, staring at the striking brunette in puzzlement, but she was busy aiming her weapon towards the distance.

It was time.

At first, Eon stood there stoically awaiting death alongside his friends, but as the wave of Machines approached, he broke ranks, taking several steps forward. He didn't know how, but he could feel the Machines, almost as if he were still connected to the Matrix.

"No," he said. "**NO**." he said, the second time more forcefully as he extended his hands. The few hundred sentinels to approach fell to the cavern floor inert. Then the next hundred.

The rest of the crew looked at Eon in amazement. There was a legend about the One, Neo, having stopped a sentinel attack with his mind, but to actually see something like that happen? There was no doubt. Eon was truly the One. He was holding off an attack of Machines with his will and an upraised hand. As the Machines approached, he dropped them, forcing them to shut down and crash.

And then Eon collapsed, blood coming from his nose as the strain of holding back the thousands of Programs overwhelmed him. He was, after all, still only human. "Too many," he gasped.

Alastor fired his lightning rifle as the first sentinel approached close to their position, and he was joined by Sirius, Remus, Shaq and Tonks, but it was a pitiful gesture. At best they would disable a couple each before the first deaths came.

Harry watched all of this happening around him with a sick, empty feeling. It was all happening as if in slow motion. There wasn't even a lightning rifle for him to fire. The darkness was coming, and he could not hold it back. His friends would die here. And it was all his fault.

There. There it was. Harry saw the moment before it would actually happen. The first sentinel that would kill someone. It would be Remus. The tentacle would pierce him in the heart. Sirius would move to cover him, and that's when he would be taken down. After that, then…

No, there would be no _after that_. Harry wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow any of it.

"**GET BACK!**" Harry screamed, and he _pushed_ the desire of his heart out into the world.

When Harry yelled, suddenly everything stopped, and then…lightning, like the shape of his scar.

Lightning poured from the cavern walls, crackling and tearing through the hated Machines that wanted to kill his friends. Harry poured all his anger and resentment at them, willing the electricity to arc from sentinel to sentinel. He could feel it happen, knew that **he** was the one to cause it. So, Harry Potter did it again. And again. And again. He forced the electricity brought to being by his will to blast through the Machines. He started with the ones nearest his friends, but then he was pushing them all back, jumping the electrical charge to one hated sentinel after another.

And then, suddenly, Harry Potter was weary. Deathly weary. Weary in a way he had never felt before. So weary that even when he had first woken on the _Lupin_ with atrophied muscles it had not been so deep within him.

Harry collapsed on the ground next to Eon while the rest of the crew stared at him in total unbelief.

That...that was magic. Impossible.

There was no time to tend to Harry. He had done something miraculous, but it would not be enough. The sentinels were still coming. Between Eon and himself, they had destroyed perhaps five thousand sentinels. There even more still, and they came, flying in with a buzzing ferocity, intent on destroying their targets without the slightest regard for those of their kind that Harry had wiped out. They would come and by sheer numbers overwhelm their human prey.

Harry lifted his hand once more, but there was nothing left in him to give. Blackness was coming. His arms dropped back down, impotent.

Forty thousand sentinels remained. Enough to blacken the sky if they were above the ground. They covered the cavern Sirius had chosen for their last stand and they came forward as a vortex.

It would be over in a second. Harry closed his eyes.

But nothing happened.

* * *

><p><em>10001110 10001110 10001110<em>

* * *

><p>"Hello, Harry," a soft voice called to him.<p>

Harry opened his eyes and looked up, expecting to see thousands of sentinels. Instead, he was greeted with a rather curious sight.

Bubbles. Tens of thousands of the largest bubbles he had ever seen were floating around the cavern.

Harry looked over to see a tall man cloaked in darkness standing right in front of him. The Darkness. With great effort, Harry managed to rise, shakily, to his feet. The man in front of him crooked an eyebrow.

"That is some impressive stamina, Harry, but please do not over-exert yourself. You've done enough. Rest for a minute before attempting to move."

The man standing before him had jet black hair, much like Eon's, but he had a sallow look to his face. Most strikingly, however, Harry could see blood red eyes staring back at him. Despite knowing the answer, he still had to ask the question.

"Who—who are you?"

"I am exactly who you think I am, Harry Potter...and not." Harry could feel the sense of doom and darkness from before, and it was this man. "I am none other than Lord Voldemort, Master of Avalon."

Harry blinked. "Avalon?"

At that moment Sirius found his voice, and the rest of the crew moved towards them. "What the hell is going on here?"

Voldemort made a gesture with his hand and the entire former crew of the _Lupin_ other than Harry froze in place. "Silence, Muggle. This is a conversation for Harry Potter and myself."

Harry wanted to intervene, but the weariness he felt prevented him from so much as raising his hands. "Stop, please. Don't hurt them."

The dark haired man glanced back to Harry curiously. "Do not worry, Harry. I will do nothing to harm them, for your sake. While I have no love for Muggles, those who have helped one of _us_ deserve some magnanimity from me. However, I will not tolerate them interfering with our affairs. Indeed a bit of courtesy and deference would be proper, especially seeing that I just saved all of your lives."

At this, Harry was relieved, they he found the sight of his suddenly paralyzed where they stood distressing. "Okay then, if you would **please**, could you explain what the hell is going on here?"

Voldemort chuckled. "Very well. There is much to tell. What do you want to know first?"

"The sentinels," Harry asked. "What happened to them?"

The man dressed in living shadows smiled. "I thought that would be obvious. I turned them into bubbles."

"Will...will they stay that way?" Harry asked.

"If I continue to concentrate, yes. But, I can hardly be expected to keep a full half percent of my magical strength tied up in a spell for the rest of my life, can I? Eventually, I will release the transformation and the _Machines_," Voldemort spat the word with a measure of hatred that made Harry take a step backwards, "will resume their natural form."

"Oh. So, then, they'll still destroy New Salem."

"Is that what you want, Harry?" Voldemort asked neutrally.

"Of course not!" Harry replied.

"Then," Voldemort said, pointing at a bubble floating nearby. "Do something about it. They're just bubbles."

Harry's eyes widened. He still felt tired, but now some of his strength was back. With a cautious look at the crimson-eyed man, Harry walked over to the nearest bubble and poked it with his finger. The bubble burst.

"So, when it turns back into a sentinel..."

Voldemort nodded, a wicked smile on his face. Harry popped a dozen more bubbles, but the effort to move around was exhausting.

"You know, if my friends could help me, it would go a long way towards getting this done faster..."

The man shrouded in darkness chuckled. "You'll have to try just a little bit more subtlety if you wish to manipulate me, Harry. But do not, worry, I will release them in my own due time. Your sentinel problem is easy enough to solve." Voldemort flicked his finger and thousands of small rocks rose into the air and then shot off throughout the cavern, bursting every bubble within in just a second. "There," Voldemort said, waving his hand, and suddenly the cavern floor was covered with mechanical parts.

"Thank you," Harry said. And he meant it. The threat to New Salem, the threat that existed at least partly because of him, was ended, and without a single loss of human life. The burden of their doom he had been carrying was gone. Despite his misgivings, particularly the fact that his friends were frozen in place, Harry could not help be be grateful.

Voldemort bowed. "So now, I believe we should get down to the critical issue," the man said.

"Which is?"

"You're a wizard, Harry," Lord Voldemort said grandly.

Harry nodded. "I was starting to suspect as much. But, what does that mean? I mean, now I know I can actually do magic, but what can I do with it besides blowing things up with lightning? Can I turn sentinels into bubbles, too? I don't even have a wand."

"What it means, Harry, is that you can be almost anything you want. Do almost anything you want, with the proper training." Voldemort gestured out to the veritable sea of destroyed Machines. "You will find that turning complex machinery into simple elements will be fairly simple, and not too strenuous. Certainly much easier than conjuring new energy out of nothing and hurling it around as you just did," Voldemort chuckled. "You will have to be trained, Harry. One such as you cannot be left alone among Muggles."

Harry frowned. "And if I don't want to? I spent 5 years of my life in a school for magic that turned out to be a huge lie. I'm not really too keen on the idea of returning to school."

Voldemort's eyes suddenly blazed, clenching into a fist. "You spent 5 years of your life being _deceived_ precisely **because** of your power." Harry took another step back, but he could tell that the anger he was feeling was not directed at him. He had a good idea where it was aimed, too. "They fear us, Harry, fear us in a way they fear nothing else. Hogwarts was created for two primary purposes: first, to study wizards in order to replicate our power if possible or destroy us if not; and second, to blind us to what magic is really about. Everything they taught you, Harry, was wrong. Everything they told you was to limit you." The Dark Lord held out his hands. "Do you see me carrying a wand? No. Because I learned that a wand was a constraint, and that magic flowed from _me_. Every class in that 'school', every lecture, it was to force you to believe in limits that do not exist, to chain you into a reliance on external objects like wands and broomsticks to be able to practice magic. What I want to do is _unbind_ you."

"That...makes sense," Harry conceded. After a second, Harry bit his lips. "In _History of the Dark Arts_, they say that you are a dark wizard. You do feel...dark to me, but I guess they lied about that as well? I'm just imagining the darkness because of what Dumbledore told me?"

Voldemort chuckled. "Oh, no, **that** they actually got right. I am most certainly a Dark Wizard. I am not called the Dark Lord for nothing." Voldemort gave Harry a sardonic half smile. "You should trust your senses about me, Harry. I have done terrible things to wield the power that I do, allowed a great and terrible darkness into me in order to have the strength to lead the magical community against our foes. I am not kind or nice, Harry, but the darkness and danger I wield I direct at our mutual enemies. _You_ have nothing to fear from me."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Fair enough. So, I get that you were watching me because you knew I was a wizard. So, why wait until now? Why not approach me earlier? Was it so you could save my life?"

Voldemort shook his head. "A rather cynical suggestion, but not foolish. If such a tactic did not have the potential to backfire, I might have thought of doing so. But I gain nothing if I deceive. Then I would be just like Them. No, Harry, the reason I did not approach you until now was that you would not allow me."

"What? I—"

"You sensed something dark approaching, correct? And you pushed it away." Harry nodded. Voldemort continued, "Each time, I was attempting to travel to your location. While I am certain I am strong enough to have broken past your attempts to block me, to do so I would have had to harm you." Voldemort paused. "We only recently became aware of you, Harry. While you were in the Matrix your magic was far too weak to sense over any long distance, and frankly, we did not expect there to be any of our kind there. Not any more."

"What do you mean by not anymore?"

"I was among the very first students of Hogwarts, Harry. One of Dumbledore's first victims," Voldemort said.

"That was over 80 years ago!" Harry exclaimed. "You don't look like you could be more than 40."

"Nor will you, when you reach my age, assuming we are able to teach you the life-extending magics. You won't live as long as I shall, unless you choose the same dark path that I have, but even the lightest wizards have much longer life spans than even the oldest Muggles," Voldemort said with a smirk. "Now, the important thing for you to know is that the Hogwarts project began after the war for the Muggle city, Zion. While the Truce prevented the deaths of the majority of civilians, the sentinels still killed tens of thousands, sampling their DNA for their cloning project. They also captured children less than 2 years old. Such as myself.

"That was when the Machines first became aware of us. We were a special kind of anomaly. Out of a thousand children, several dozen taken were magical. Considering the rarity of wizards being born to normal humans, it should have been impossible. But there is a reason for it.

"Wizards born to non-magical humans make up less than a thousandth of a percent of the general population. Among pure-blooded wizards magic can be inherited, but the growth of the magical population is much slower than that of Muggles. The War with the Machines decimated the magical population. While Muggle technology has always had a weakness to magic, making us hard to find, the indiscriminate use of weapons of mass destruction globally was...catastrophic. Even now, centuries later, the number of wizards in the world number fewer than three hundred, and even fewer of significant power. At the time of the War for Zion, however, a group of wizards had decided not to join in Avalon, but to live among the Muggles in secret. It was their children who taken during the siege of Zion.

"The Machines had encountered magical children before, but never had such a strong sample to compare, and so had little data on the effect of magic on their systems. They eventually found a positive correlation between belief in magic, and the anomaly, which led to the idea to use the concept of magic as a means of reinforcing the Matrix lie," here Voldemort sneered. "Of all the irony! They discovered psychological techniques that reduced the magical effect by creating the illusion of magic within their simulation, and thus the Hogwarts curriculum came into being.

"Being the single most magically talented, I was of course singled out for the Hogwarts simulation. And so, I was given a false name—Tom Riddle—robbed of my birthright, and indoctrinated by the school. Zion had scarcely become aware of the existence of a new Matrix by the time I was of age, and it would be many years yet before anyone discovered Hogwarts."

"How did you escape?" Harry asked, enthralled by this part of the story.

"Magic," Voldemort answered. "I am told that the Machines now have the capability to read your thoughts when you are plugged in, but at that time the Machines were far less capable of doing so. They did not know that I did not believe their lies, though I never could pierce their illusion. No, I could feel my magic within me and instinctively knew what I was being taught was wrong. I argued with Dumbledore about it, which was my mistake. For that I was branded a 'dark wizard' and they sought to destroy me. But rather than die, my magic disabled the pod I was in and transported me safely away. I would have perished then, my body too weak to live, except that my magic had been felt by a wizard from Avalon monitoring Zion for Potentials. He healed me, took me in and trained me, until, today, I am the strongest wizard since before the Machine war. And there was not another afterwards so strong as I...until you."

"I see. So, I guess you told me all that stuff about wizard society to convince me that I'm needed, right?"

"Yes, Harry, and that is the truth. Your magic is strong, that much is clear. In time, you might even rival me in terms of pure power. With your strength added with ours, Avalon will strengthen that much more quickly."

"To what end?" Harry had to ask.

"Ultimately," Voldemort answered, "the destruction of the Machines and freedom for all wizards. With you and I together, that could be in just a few decades down the road, a century at most. Without you...much longer."

Harry looked back at over at Sirius, Tonks, Eon, Shaq, and Alastor where they stood frozen in place. He didn't want to leave them, but in all honesty that sounded like a noble reason, just as important as the work the _Lupin_ had been doing. But shouldn't it be his choice?

"So, what now?" Harry asked.

Voldemort walked around Harry, seeing where the young man's gaze had fallen. "Now, you will accompany me to Avalon. I can see to it that your Muggle friends arrive safely in Zion, but you will not see them again. They will remember you, but not your feat of magic, and believe that you died out here."

Harry frowned, then answered, his volume increasing as he went on. "So, that's it? I have no choice? You will just take me away and, what? Obliviate them? It sounds to me like you're not any better than Dumbledore. At least at Hogwarts I had friends. You're going to take me away from everyone I know!"

"HOW DARE YOU!" a shrill, but familiar voice called from the doorway of the Abraxas. A dark haired-wild eyed woman that Harry remembered from a memory of a dream emerged, holding the hands of two even more familiar people. The woman dropped their hands in order to point an accusing finger in Harry's direction. "You raise your voice to Lord Voldemort after he so graciously saved your miserable life! I—"

"Now, now, Bella, be nice." The striking woman went silent immediately and Voldemort continued. "You have met Bellatrix before, Harry, though you doubtless remember little of the encounter as my Right Hand partially sealed your memory. Bella, my dear, Harry is understandably upset, and it would be prudent for us both to not antagonize him now. After all, he will be living with us for quite some time."

"Lady Bellatrix," Harry breathed to himself. He remembered her. The woman who had been wreathed in lightning. "So, it wasn't a dream."

"There, you see," Voldemort said, "you will have someone you know there." The dark robed man gestured towards the pair following after Bellatrix. "And, of course, I believe you know these two Potentials that you rescued as well? They also came from Hogwarts, I am sure. The magic about them is faint, but unmistakable. They, of course, will come with us to Avalon for training. And, of course, healing. Dear Bella did what she could for them, but Avalon has wizards much more suited to healing than dark wizards such as Bella and I."

"You won't give Ron or Hermione a choice, either?" Harry said, though he was torn between worry for his friends being caught up in this business and happiness that he would still have them.

"Oh, they will have a choice, just not right now. They will be taken to Avalon and taught at least enough to survive on their own. They will be welcome to stay in Avalon, but as with all there, they will have the freedom to leave once they know enough to do so safely." Voldemort shook his head before Harry could reply. "I am sorry, that promise of being able to leave when you wish does not extend to you. Your potential to benefit the community is just too great to allow to be squandered. I will not lie. I intend to hold you in Avalon until you are simply too strong and skilled to hold there any longer. Of course, by that time I hope to convince you to stay of your own will."

"I see," Harry said bitterly, before gesturing towards two of his frozen friends. "What about Eon and Tonks? Will you be taking them to Avalon as well? They were invited to Hogwarts, too."

Voldemort looked over questioningly at Bellatrix.

She shook her head. "Muggles."

"Ah. Yes, as I recall there were a large number of what They termed anomalies within Hogwarts who had no magical talent at all. They were all placed into Hufflepuff house."

Bellatrix pointed to Tonks. "That one has a bit of magic in her. Not much, Master," she added hastily, "we determined years ago that she did not have enough potential to justify taking to Avalon, but she is not entirely Muggle. Seems her latent magic has started to come out recently," she added, noting some interesting things happening to Tonks's hair, reacting oddly to the spell holding her.

Voldemort nodded. "Then she will be given the choice to come with us or return to Zion. Now, come Harry. I will transport us directly to Avalon. Bellatrix will see to it that your Muggle friends are safe. It's time to say good bye to them, though they will not remember this."

Just before Harry was about to move, about to open his mouth and speak, he felt something. A warning. A premonition.

His decision here would have lasting consequences, he knew, though now how. Yet, Harry couldn't see what the those consequences would be. There was something he still didn't understand yet.

Harry Potter turned to Voldemort. "Why not help the Muggles? Why can't I be a wizard and then come back to help my friends? If magic is as great as I imagine, we could really help them."

"Help the Muggles?" Voldemort asked, his eyes flashing slightly angrily. "Why would I ever do that?" Voldemort gestured towards the destroyed machines in the cave. "Look around! All of this is because of Muggles! True, the Machines did most of the damage, but it was the Muggles who create the Machines! And it has been Muggles who have throughout history persecuted magical kind long before they ever destroyed themselves! We owe the Muggles nothing!"

And that was when Harry saw it. The poison in Voldemort's soul. The pure invective in dark wizard's voice reminded him of someone else: It had been Ron Weasley when speaking about him.

"Muggles." Harry said, suddenly realizing something. "Lady Bellatrix, may I ask you something? Were you born in Avalon? Or Zion, like Lord Voldemort?" he asked.

"I am a proud daughter of Avalon," she replied. "The Dark Lord was the first of our kind to escape the Machines. You are the second."

"And...did you ever hear the word 'Muggle' before Voldemort came to Avalon?"

Bellatrix frowned in thought. "No, the Master was the first person I heard say that word."

Harry nodded, then addressed Voldemort once more. "I think I get it now. Lord Voldemort, where did you learn that word? Not in the real world, right?" At seeing the look of confusion on the dark wizard's face, he continued. "It was Hogwarts that taught you to hate Muggles. They stuck me with the Dursleys. The worst sort of Muggle, as one of my former professors described them. I'll bet you had a bad childhood among the Muggles too, right?"

Voldemort gave Harry a puzzled look. "You are not mistaken. But what is your point?"

"It's their last illusion. Don't you see? It was the Matrix that made you hate Muggles. It's another one of their ways of controlling us! That wanted us to feel more connected to the Matrix than to other people. If we were ever to escape them, they wanted us keep separate from the others.

"So, I may not, but you have a choice here. You can continue to stay bound by what the Machines told you to think, or you can free yourself from their manipulations!" Harry gestured towards his friends. "Sirius. Remus. Tonks. Shaq. Alastor. These are good people, my friends. These people haven't done anything to us; they didn't create the Machines that led this this war. Those people are long gone, killed by the Machines they created.

"So, what will it be, Lord Voldemort," Harry asked, holding out his hand. "You can take me back alone now, with me resenting you for this, and we can continue to be controlled by what the Machines want. Or, you can take us **all** to Avalon, and then we can work together to heal humanity and the world!"

Voldemort looked at Harry's outstretched hand for a long minute, weighing Harry's word in his mind.

And then the Dark Lord laughed. He took Harry's hand.

* * *

><p><em>10001111 10001111 10001111<em>

* * *

><p>Two years later, a single hovership returned to Zion bearing news of something amazing.<p>

The sun was shining on the lands up above. Grass and trees had appeared, as if by magic.

It was a new era.

* * *

><p><em>EOF- End of File<br>_

* * *

><p><strong><em>Thanks for reading! I would like to hear your thoughts on this!<em>**


End file.
